Chapter Sixty: The Demon Ancestor Manifests

As the demon cultivators frantically searched for shelter, the Bloodstone abruptly halted its movement, then reassembled itself, returning to its original form. The demon cultivators circled around the reformed Bloodstone, inspecting it from every angle, some even reaching out to touch its surface. Though it remained whole, it was clear to all that a fracture now ran through it—it was no longer a flawless piece.

Fury rose among them.

Yi Tianling’s borrowed strength faded, and he was struck back by the Violet Wheel King, landing heavily right beside Ning Xianyu. Bloodied and barely breathing, it was obvious he would not last much longer.

Zhutiang, leading the charge, shouted in outrage, “Xuanyuan Tunhan, the Immortal Realm has gone too far—abducting our Saintess, destroying our Bloodstone! The foundation of the Demon Realm, built over hundreds of thousands of years, is ruined. Don’t think your Immortal Realm or Mortal World will be spared!”

“When I return, I swear I’ll lead the demon army to raze both your realms to the ground!”

No one could tolerate the destruction of such a sacred artifact; desperation was inevitable.

Ning Xianyu glanced at the protagonist, thinking, What a troublemaker you are. You think the protagonist’s halo makes you invincible? Why not get up and fight now, instead of playing dead? With both sides on the verge of all-out war, she was determined not to become collateral damage.

Xuanyuan Tunhan sent her a telepathic message, instructing her what to say.

“Whether the Bloodstone is truly destroyed can be tested. If you lack the strength, why rush into battle?” Ning Xianyu delivered the words with an expression of utter disdain, as if she looked down upon everyone present. Hearing those infuriating words, she almost laughed aloud. The Demon Lord was truly unmatched—even while at fault, he could still mock his adversaries with such aplomb.

Of course, this was only possible because of his overwhelming power. Were he a bit weaker, the Demon Lords would have torn him apart by now.

And that was precisely what the Demon Lords were thinking.

“Xuanyuan Tunhan, what nonsense is that? The stone’s cracked; how could it possibly function?”

Xuanyuan Tunhan replied coolly, “Why not try and see? Unless, of course, you’d prefer the stone to be truly useless?”

There was a twisted logic to his words.

Zhutiang decided it was worth testing. What if it still worked? He called out directly, “Akali, come here.”

Tears streaming down her face, Akali sobbed, “If you want me to try, let Young Master Yi go. Otherwise, I’ll end my life here and now, so neither the Bloodstone nor your precious Saintess will be of any use to you.” She gathered her spiritual power, her resolve to self-destruct clearly evident.

Ning Xianyu rolled her eyes to the heavens, thinking that Zhutiang must be beside himself with rage—what care had he for her feelings at this point?

Indeed, maddened by fury, Zhutiang abruptly seized the barely-conscious Yi Tianling, snarling, “Defy me again, and I’ll destroy his spiritual core, cripple his limbs, and leave him to linger in misery.”

The threat had its effect, but at that moment Xuanyuan Tunhan struck swiftly, snatching Yi Tianling back.

Zhutiang, thinking Xuanyuan Tunhan was shielding him, roared, “You two—don’t push us too far!”

Xuanyuan Tunhan answered, “He belongs to the cultivation realm. I will not allow you to dispose of him as you please.”

Akali, hopeful at last, looked over gratefully. “Senior, please protect Young Master Yi.”

But Xuanyuan Tunhan’s gaze remained icy. “You will try the Bloodstone.”

Akali was stunned. “Senior, what did you say?”

Expression cold as ever, Xuanyuan Tunhan repeated, “I want you to test the Bloodstone.” He lifted Yi Tianling slightly as if to emphasize the threat. Though he uttered no further threats, his actions left no doubt—if she refused, Yi Tianling would die.

Akali was filled with anguish and indignation. “I thought you stood for justice,” she cried. She had never expected the cultivators to be even more ruthless than the demons, willing to sacrifice their own.

Xuanyuan Tunhan was unmoved, watching her coldly.

The choice was hers. So, too, was Yi Tianling’s fate.

Though this was precisely the outcome Zhutiang desired, he still felt an odd sense of discomfort.

Ning Xianyu thought the Demon Lord was simply a stubborn tsundere—insisting on making the threats himself, as if only he could intimidate his own people. Honestly, what was the point of playing the villain so eagerly?

Akali, now utterly alone and despairing, could only submit. She could not bear to see her beloved die. Weeping, she made her way to the Bloodstone, reciting the incantation step by step, each tear falling to the ground.

The Demon Lords watched the Bloodstone intently, afraid to miss a single detail. Ning Xianyu, too, was anxious, wishing to get a closer look, but Xuanyuan Tunhan held her back.

Though he, too, should have been tense, the Demon Lord appeared serenely unruffled.

As the incantation was chanted, the Bloodstone began to change. Inside, bright red currents started to flow, as though, despite its fractured state, the stone remained a unified whole, the blood within binding its pieces together.

However, unlike before, the Bloodstone did not rise in response to the Saintess’s song; it simply remained on the ground.

Then, the fragments began to spread apart.

Startled, the Demon Lords watched in growing rage and disappointment. “Xuanyuan Tunhan, what do you have to say now?”

Ning Xianyu didn’t answer, for she sensed the Bloodstone was still exerting its power. She simply pointed at it, urging them to see for themselves.

The Demon Lords looked closer and saw that although the fragments had separated, they had not fully dispersed; instead, they formed a ring. Upon closer inspection, thin red lines of flowing blood could be seen connecting the pieces, holding the structure together.

Gradually, the ring expanded, encompassing a radius of one kilometer, creating an enormous circle. At its center, a giant vortex formed, drawing in demonic energy from the Demon Lords, swirling it away into nothingness.

Gu Dou’s gaze snapped to the gateway between realms, and he saw that demon cultivators on the other side were similarly being drained of their demonic energy, which vanished into the vortex.

The other Demon Lords, along with Zhutiang, watched in utter shock.

The ritual to absorb demonic energy was only performed once a year, not because it could not be held more often, but because the Bloodstone and Saintess’s powers were limited; only once a year could they perform at full strength—any more would exhaust them for little gain.

This time, their intention was merely to test whether the Bloodstone could still function after being damaged.

Yet, during the previous ritual, the Bloodstone had performed extraordinarily, absorbing tenfold the energy of previous years, filling them with delight.

No one had imagined that after just a day, another ritual would yield results even more astonishing.

Had they known a ritual had taken place just yesterday, their shock would have been even greater.

Now, stunned into silence, they could not help but speculate.

Was this... a divine sign from the Demon Ancestor?

Or had they misunderstood all along—perhaps this was the Bloodstone’s true form, and they had been using it incorrectly?