Chapter 27: Gathering the Demons

For hundreds of years, the Wu tribe had remained silent, and once their threat faded, conflicts among the great demons began to erupt. At the slightest disagreement, rivers of blood would flow, for every one of these formidable beings was proud and defiant, bowing to no one.

To the west of Buzhou Mountain lay a place called Zhangyuan, perpetually shrouded in mist and drizzling rain. Mortal creatures could hardly survive here, and it was the stronghold of the great demon Ji Meng.

Ji Meng’s true form was a human body with an unusual head, appearing quite imposing. He wielded a steel trident capable of stirring the seas and wore armor of dragon scales. With his cultivation at the peak of the Taiyi Golden Immortal, he was a renowned master in the region, commanding tens of thousands of tribes under his rule.

His strength was such that no other demon dared provoke him. Now, with the Wu tribe no longer a threat, Ji Meng lived a carefree life these past centuries.

Suddenly, a small demon rushed in anxiously.

“Sire! Outside, a man claiming to be the Celestial Emperor wishes to see you!”

Ji Meng was enjoying the service of several beautiful maidens. He barely raised his eyelids and waved his hand dismissively. “I won’t see him.”

“Yes, Sire!” The little demon dared not disobey and scrambled out.

“Out of the way! Out of the way! My master does not receive visitors!” Once outside, the little demon put on an arrogant air.

Li Tian stood in the void, unmoved by the little demon’s words. With a casual wave of his hand, he sent several demons at the entrance flying aside. He did not strike to kill, but whether they lived or died was of no concern to him.

“I meant to show some courtesy, but it seems force is necessary...” Li Tian shook his head and strode confidently into Ji Meng’s lair, as if no one could stop him. Along the way, he encountered many lesser demons, but they were so weak that a single thought could render dozens unconscious.

“Ji Meng?”

Li Tian entered the central hall, his gaze falling on the stout man reclining on a tusk bed, surrounded by graceful women. He frowned.

“Who are you?” Ji Meng abruptly opened his eyes, sat up, and pushed aside the attending maidens.

“I am the Supreme Sumeru Celestial Emperor,” Li Tian replied indifferently, seeing Ji Meng was only at the Taiyi Golden Immortal level and not bothering with further words. He unleashed the overwhelming pressure of a peak Daluo Golden Immortal.

“I am the ruler of the Celestial Court. I’ve come today to invite you to join us.”

“Are you the Celestial Emperor who created the written characters?” Ji Meng asked, trembling under Li Tian’s formidable aura, cold sweat soaking his back.

“Yes,” Li Tian nodded calmly.

Ji Meng immediately knelt, submitting to Li Tian. After all, his life was in the emperor’s hands, and he understood the extraordinary nature of his visitor. Following such a figure was no disgrace.

“Excellent,” Li Tian said, satisfied with Ji Meng’s attitude, withdrawing his aura.

“Go to the summit of Buzhou Mountain and find someone named Fuxi. He will arrange matters for you.”

“Yes!” Ji Meng wiped the sweat from his brow and bowed respectfully.

Li Tian nodded and turned to leave. He had no fear that Ji Meng would dare betray him—if he tried, Li Tian would teach him the meaning of despair.

He continued his journey, seeking out the next demon king’s stronghold, forcing them into submission in the same manner...

Thus, a century passed. Li Tian subdued nearly all the powers except the Wu tribe, tens of thousands of demon kings falling under his might. Notable among them, besides Ji Meng, were Yingzhao, Bai Ze, Feidan, Feilian, Jiuying, Zitai, Shangyang, Qinyuan, and Guiche.

They were the ten great demon saints of the ancient era, though now the title was not so certain.

“Next is the Dragon Clan...”

Having subdued the last prominent demon king, Li Tian had no intention of continuing; the minor demon kings scattered in remote lands were insignificant and not worth his personal attention.

Therefore, he turned his sights to the Dragon Clan.

Since the decline of the three great tribes, the remnants of the Dragon Clan had kept a low profile, almost forgotten by the world. Though they no longer possessed their former glory, even a dying camel is larger than a horse, and the Dragons remained the undisputed rulers of the seas.

...

Meanwhile, in the Wu tribe,

After the Wu tribe ceased provoking trouble and saw the great demons warring among themselves, the twelve Ancestor Witches were delighted and redoubled their efforts to create more clansmen.

But since the Celestial Court began recruiting demon kings a century ago, their laughter faded. They wished to intervene, but the relentless creation of tribesmen over the centuries had exhausted the Ancestor Witches, especially the twelve newly created great witches, who had consumed vast amounts of their vital essence.

Thus, they were powerless to resist, forced to watch as the Celestial Court gathered the demon kings together. Now, after a century of recuperation, the twelve Ancestor Witches had mostly recovered.

“I said long ago that those beasts should be eliminated. If you’d listened to me, we wouldn’t have so many problems now,” Zhu Rong boasted as he entered the Pangu Hall, recalling that he alone had advocated destroying the Celestial Court, but no one had agreed, much to his frustration.

Dijiang’s face darkened, though he knew Zhu Rong meant no harm and did not react.

“All right, can’t you say a little less?” Xuanming frowned.

“Uh, Xuanming, I’m just anxious, that’s all,” Zhu Rong replied with rare earnestness, eliciting laughter from the other Ancestor Witches. Dijiang’s mood improved as well.

“So, what should we do about the Celestial Court?” Dijiang asked, seated in the main position, his voice grave.

“At this point, we have no choice but to confront them directly. With all twelve of us united, we need not fear the Supreme Sumeru Celestial Emperor,” Zhujun Yin declared solemnly. Among the Ancestor Witches, he had always played the role of strategist, and the others, including Dijiang, respected his counsel.

“Yes, that’s all we can do,” Dijiang nodded heavily, uncertain how many clansmen would be lost in the coming conflict.

...

At the same time, Li Tian had arrived at the shores of the East Sea.

The Dragon Clan was now divided into four factions, each led by a nine-clawed golden dragon: Ao Guang, Ao Qin, Ao Run, and Ao Shun, all sons of Ao Long.

Ao Long had not been prominent during the clan’s heyday and likely never expected his four sons would become dragon kings after his death, ruling the clan for countless years—though the title was now somewhat humiliating.

Hovering above the East Sea Dragon Palace, Li Tian’s emotions were mixed. He could hardly believe he would soon arrive as a victor. Memories of being hunted by the Dragon Clan seemed as vivid as yesterday.

He shook his head, released a mighty aura that enveloped the Dragon Palace, and used his powers to speak in a deep voice: “I am the Supreme Sumeru Celestial Emperor. I have come today to pay my respects. May the Dragon King of the East Sea come forth to meet me!”