Chapter 432: Half Black, Half White

“Haha~”

Heaven Arbiter Ashen let out a loud laugh. “Just in time!”

“This truly is a case of ‘When you think there’s no way forward, a hidden path appears!’”

“With the Flood Dragon Emperor joining the fray, what does it matter even if Yan Wuyong commands a million-strong army?”

“The Great Demon Realm stands supreme under heaven. Mere mortals cannot resist…”

Beside him, Gu Ning’an observed Flood Dragon Emperor and remarked with a smile after noticing his calculations, Gu Ning’an smiled and said, “Heaven Arbiter Ashen, look at the Flood Dragon Emperor’s head—do you see the black piece turning white?”

“What!” Heaven Arbiter Ashen focused his gaze. “How can there be a half-black, half-white piece?”

“He’s divining?”

In the field, the Flood Dragon Emperor found that the heavenly secrets of Great Wu was in utter chaos. No matter how he tried to divine, he could only gather fragmented pieces of information.

Below, upon seeing the Flood Dragon Emperor’s figure clearly, Lei Zhen’s heart clenched at first. But then he looked as though he’d grabbed onto a life-saving reed, shouting skyward, “Flood Dragon Emperor! You’ve finally come!”

“We’ve held on until you arrived!”

As he spoke, Lei Zhen pointed viciously at Yan Wuyong across from him, roaring, “It was this group of traitors! They conspired to murder Regent Emperor Liu and then tried to wipe out our demon race!”

“I, Lei, was entrusted by Regent Liu on her deathbed to take up the mantle of the demon race’s authority…”

Just as he reached that point, Lei Zhen’s voice abruptly cut off—not because he didn’t want to continue, but because his throat felt choked, as if something had blocked it.

When he looked up, he saw the Flood Dragon Emperor had lifted him into the air and sent a glowing thread into his brow.

In an instant, his demon soul was pierced through by a beam of mystical light, and at that moment, it was as if all of his secrets were laid bare before the Flood Dragon Emperor.

Thud!

When the light faded from his soul, Lei Zhen felt the world spinning. His body collapsed uncontrollably to the ground.

After soul-searching Lei Zhen and learning everything that had occurred over the past twenty years, the Flood Dragon Emperor gave a bitter smile. “Liu Shi… I have failed you…”

“The demon race failed to rise not because the Heavenly Dao was unjust, but simply because demons themselves were far too narrow in vision…”

He then looked at Lei Zhen, lying before him, and said coldly, “Your pursuit of power is not inherently wrong. But why did you cripple the very momentum of the demon race’s rise?”

Realizing the Flood Dragon Emperor now knew everything, Lei Zhen’s survival instincts surged. He fought through the chaos in his mind and quickly pleaded, “Flood Dragon Emperor, I had my own difficulties…”

Suddenly, in the silence of Yinsha Prefecture, sounds of air being torn echoed. Demon generals streaked in from all directions, slamming down beside Lei Zhen one after another.

Their eyes were full of fear, as they struggled to speak in their defense—but like Lei Zhen, not a word came out.

Then, as if seized by an irresistible force, the bodies of these demon generals twisted violently. Their tall, imposing figures became like puppets controlled by invisible hands. One by one, they collapsed to their knees in grotesque poses.

Terror and unwillingness filled their eyes, but all resistance was meaningless in the face of that power.

Even more horrifyingly, their flesh began to rip apart uncontrollably—bit by bit.

This process was not fast. On the contrary, it was agonizingly slow, like a lingering execution. Each strip of torn flesh was met with cries of pain and despair.

The sudden turn of events cast a heavy silence over Yan Wuyong’s army. They were still reeling from how a seemingly ordinary middle-aged man had effortlessly erased the axe of murderous energy conjured from a million soldiers…

And now, they watched as this man—who appeared to be the true leader of the demon race—publicly flayed his subordinates alive.

Such drastic changes left people confused, and unease weighed heavily in the air.

No one knew how much time passed, but in front of the Flood Dragon Emperor remained only bloodied chunks of meat—and the phantasmal souls of the demon generals.

These souls were illusory and faint, but the fear in their eyes was even more palpable than when they had bodies.

Amid their terrified gazes, the Flood Dragon Emperor pulled an old, unadorned clay jar from his sleeve. It looked plain and ordinary, without the slightest sign of specialness.

With a light twist of his fingers, a jet-black flame flickered into existence—strange and eerie, carrying an inexplicable, terrifying aura.

The Flood Dragon Emperor sent the black flame into the jar, where it spread like a living thing, slithering through every corner of the vessel.

Then, with a fluid motion, he waved his sleeve—and the souls of the demon generals were pulled by an invisible force, shrieking and wailing, as they were forcibly sucked into the jar.

They struggled, cried, and begged—but it was all in vain.

And when the Flood Dragon Emperor gently placed the lid on the jar, all the sounds vanished. It was as if the entire world had fallen silent.

The clay jar sealed their wails and pleas completely. Nothing could escape.

After finishing all this, the Flood Dragon Emperor merely gave the jar a brief glance before stowing it away, as if none of it had ever happened. Then he looked toward the common folk gathered at the city gates.

With a flick of his finger, a thread-thin beam of light expanded with the wind, quickly turning into a soft, radiant halo that enveloped all 200,000 people.

Seeing this, Yan Wuyong shouted, “Stop!” and once again raised his axe, conjuring an even larger blade of murderous aura in the sky.

But before he could bring it down, that gentle halo had already begun lifting the people toward the Yan Southern Army’s lines.

When the glow faded, the raggedly dressed citizens had been delivered safely to Yan Wuyong’s army.

“Quick! Get the civilians to the rear for aid!”

“Hurry!”

Yan Wuyong still held his battleaxe aloft. Though he didn’t understand what the Flood Dragon Emperor was doing, the civilians were right there before him—and only one thought occupied his mind: save them!

Under the direction of Advisor Liu, thousands of soldiers from the Yan Southern Army swiftly moved into columns, using chariots and warhorses to escort the civilians to safety.

Throughout this, Yan Wuyong’s expression remained taut. His hand holding the mighty axe never once lowered.

Across from him, the Flood Dragon Emperor looked at him meaningfully. After a long silence, he finally said, “Put away that axe—it can’t hurt me.”

Yan Wuyong still held his pose, speaking in a low voice: “You’re the one who broke through Northern Huangtian twenty years ago and slew the immortal—Flood Dragon Emperor?”

“I am,” the Flood Dragon Emperor nodded. After looking Yan Wuyong up and down, he said calmly, “You are favored by fate. Truly lucky. Do you also have old ties with Mr. Gu?”

At the mention of “Mr. Gu,” Yan Wuyong—who had been under immense pressure—straightened up and replied solemnly, “Yes. Mr. Gu once gave me a brocade pouch that helped me escape from danger.”