The altar, forged by Ravana’s demonic arts, spanned a hundred miles in circumference and rose twelve li high, divided into nine distinct tiers.

All across the altar, greenish-blue demonic flames raged, sending waves of oppressive heat scattering. Even the most savage Asura demons dared not approach these hellish fires carelessly. This was the sacrificial blaze the Asuras used for self-immolation and ascetic devotion to gain immense power; no Asura would willingly touch these fearsome flames unless absolutely necessary.

Gu Xiechen watched as a swaggering Asura general, walking carelessly, stumbled too close to one of the flames. When one of his little fingers grazed a wisp of the demonic fire, a massive conflagration immediately engulfed him, consuming him like mere firewood. The Asura was burned until his flesh turned to slurry and his bones calcified, the marrow itself scorching out and emitting a strange, fishy aroma.

The Asura general, screaming hideously as he was tortured, recited several incantations out of desperation. His body convulsed violently, the demonic flames continuing to burn and writhe. Gu Xiechen clearly perceived a measurable surge in his power.

This gain in strength roughly equated to the magical cultivation achieved by a Mid-grade Taiyi Golden Immortal after ten thousand years of arduous practice. Yet, this Asura general had gained it merely by enduring the agonizing burn for a short while, electing to offer up his suffering as the sacrifice, and reaping the increase in power.

Ten thousand years of cultivation for a Mid-grade Taiyi Golden Immortal’s magic power—gained just by being burned for a moment.

Gu Xiechen suddenly understood how Daoist Zhang and the others had managed to ascend to Daluo Golden Immortal status in such a short time.

He became even more expectant: how much benefit would Indra, placed at the very center of the highest tier of the altar, bring to the Asuras? Could this ritual grant all Asuras the cultivation base of Golden Immortals instantly? Could it allow great demon kings like Poxun to break through to the peak of Daluo Golden Immortal strength?

Seeing the completely naked Indra laid upon the altar, already encircled by thirty-six plumes of sacrificial fire, the Devas went mad. Countless heavenly armies charged toward the altar from all directions, blowing their horns, brandishing swords and spears, hurling arrows and darts, attacking with a desperate, life-or-death resolve. Unfortunately, this was the Three-Linked City, and residents acknowledged by the city could not truly die within its walls.

An Asura fell, only to rise again within the span of a single breath. A Deva fell, equally capable of standing back up in less than a breath. Unless every single Asura was instantly annihilated, the Devas stood no chance of reaching the altar.

But this was the Black Iron City, crammed densely with Asuras across its expanse. For trillions of li in every direction, the ground was covered with roaring, leaping Asuras—their warriors numbered in the trillions.

The desperate Devas managed to gain some ground, but they could not secure an absolute advantage. They advanced inch by painful inch, only to have their meager gains utterly crushed by the constantly regenerating Asuras.

Powerful Devas such as Vayu and Varuna were slain by the Corpse Emperor and Guihua Mangren. Their bodies became saturated with the power signatures of the Corpse Emperor and the others. Until the demonic magic saturating the Three-Linked City could purge the foreign magic invading their forms, these Devas could not resurrect.

Having lost their Heavenly Emperor, the supreme commander, and their commanding generals like Vayu, the Devas’ assault gradually lost its sharpness. They were repeatedly driven back, their formations collapsing under the frantic counterattacks of the Asuras. When Asura Kings like Vanya joined the fray, the Deva battle lines finally began to shatter.

And Gu Xiechen, who had been waiting solely to enjoy the spectacle of Indra’s sacrifice, added the final straw that broke the camel’s back to the Deva formation.

The white snake, transformed from the Profound Ice Rope coiled around Gu Xiechen’s neck, shot skyward, morphing into a massive white dragon several thousand li thick that stretched across the void. The dragon shook its body, unleashing vast sheets of icy rain, while a biting, cold gale rose from the ground, sweeping toward the Deva army, laden with sleet. The Devas’ bodies froze stiff, their movements growing increasingly sluggish.

When the Asuras, completely unaffected by the wind and rain, attacked at their normal pace, the Devas, reacting several times slower than usual, completely lost the will to resist. They were struck down one after another, captured or routed. A massive rout of the Devas ensued.

Countless Devas fled in all directions, abandoning their leaders, abandoning the Heavenly Emperor Indra, who lay unconscious in the center of the altar, and abandoning the raging Great Devas. They fled for their lives, scrambling toward the Golden and Silver Cities above.

Gu Xiechen smiled, flicking a finger toward the void. The white dragon instantly vanished, transforming into a wisp of cold air imperceptible to ordinary eyes, slipping into his sleeve.

Poxun and the other Asura Kings searched for the white dragon. This terrifyingly powerful beast had clearly helped them defeat the Devas, suggesting it was a war beast kept by some Asura. If they could find this dragon, perhaps they could find the powerful warrior behind it.

But how could Gu Xiechen allow Poxun and the others to uncover his trail? He remained hidden deep within the Asura ranks, his divine sense spreading out in all directions, covering every movement above and below the altar within his awareness.

Poxun and the other Asura Demon Kings searched using their divine abilities for a while but found no trace whatsoever.

They exchanged glances, temporarily setting the matter aside, focusing all their attention on the still, silent Indra lying on the altar, breathing evenly, as pure and innocent as a newborn infant, posing no threat.

Several hundred high-ranking Asura Demon Kings arrayed themselves around Indra according to seniority and strength. Poxun and the most powerful, most ancient Demon Kings—those with the highest status among the guardians of the Buddhist realm—took positions near Indra’s head, while the others ranked downward, the lowest in status and strength positioned near his feet.

Other Asura generals stood scattered around the altar. Some floated in the air on clouds, while others had their mount pythons rear their massive heads high, allowing the generals to hover aloft upon their serpents.

In an instant, the area around the altar teemed with Asura commanders, and Gu Xiechen and his companions mingled unnoticed among these formidable warriors.

As for the remaining Asura fighters, they roared and shrieked around the altar as if driven mad. Some performed the unique dances reserved for sacrifice, and others, still spoiling for a fight after their clash with the Devas, swung their weapons and struck their comrades nearby. The vicinity of the altar became choked with smoke and fumes, truly resembling a pot of boiling gruel into which a bomb had just been dropped.

Even more Asuras, hearing the news that Indra was to be offered as a sacrifice, flocked in from other cities. The density of Asuras in this layer increased until the ground to the void was packed, every single Asura pressing against another in an impenetrable mass.

This layer of the city was not merely crowded; it was so tightly packed that even if a Daluo Golden Immortal shot a lightning spell inside, it likely wouldn't blast open a gap among the tightly compressed Asuras.

Seeing the ever-growing crowd of Asuras, Poxun roared with satisfaction toward the heavens several times.

The Asuras heard Poxun’s command and began chanting the sacrificial hymns in perfect unison.

These savage Asuras, so fierce and brutal in combat, displayed a profound solemnity and dignity as they sang this chant passed down from their ancestors’ ancestors’ ancestors, dedicated to their gods and forebears.

Mysterious energy surged forth from their bodies, their collective voices merging into a colossal wave of sound that swept through the Three-Linked City.

Countless runes, the size of human heads, slowly materialized in the air. These glyphs, formed from the sacrificial fire, drifted like phantoms through the bodies of the Asuras. Agony caused them to emit low groans, but their sacrificial song never faltered. Even when some Asuras were burned down to ash, their voices remained loud and clear.

The tremendous fluctuation of demonic power alarmed the entire Three-Linked City, causing innumerable gods and demons dwelling within to look toward the sky in terror.

The Deva armies, urged on by their powerful commanders, reformed their lines, attempting to breach the Black Iron City layer once more to reclaim their Heavenly Emperor, Indra. But that city layer was so densely packed by the Asuras that not even space for a flea remained, making any charge impossible.

Especially as the runes made of sacrificial fire danced erratically in the void; any Devas attempting to charge down the vertical passages between the city layers were instantly scorched by the flames, howling in agony as they rolled upon the ground. The Deva army fell into utter chaos, unable to organize any effective resistance.

Poxun smiled, casually forming a mudra and shooting it toward Indra.

Indra’s corpulent, pale body slowly began to swell, and simultaneously, the altar expanded.

Indra’s body ballooned until it was a thousand li high, and the altar grew to a size of a million li.

Tens of thousands of beautiful Asura women stripped off their clothing. Carrying jars and pitchers of pure water, and lengths of fine cotton cloth, they walked slowly onto Indra’s form. These Asura beauties moved across Indra, lightly using the cloth dipped in clean water to wash his body.

Some female Asuras even transformed their bodies to the exact perfect size to pry open Indra’s mouth, meticulously cleaning his teeth, using water and fine salt to scrub his gums and clear out his oral cavity and throat.

Other female Asuras jumped onto Indra’s fingernails, washing them clean with water and digging out dried blood and bits of flesh clinging to the crevices. Indra’s toenails received the exact same meticulous attention.

Next came a contingent of female Asuras carrying razors. With the exception of his spectacularly radiant hair, every other hair on Indra’s body was scraped clean.

Another tens of thousands of female Asuras carrying pitchers of water came forward, carefully washing Indra’s body once more.

This was followed by washing him with Soma wine, then milk, and finally coating his entire body in fragrant balm oil, decorating him head-to-toe with pearls and jewels. Long necklaces draped around his throat, his fingers were laden with rings, his arms adorned with golden armbands, and his legs dressed likewise. Even Indra’s ear holes were stuffed with pearls, and his navel filled with rubies and sapphires.

Every single strand of Indra’s hair was edged with intricate gold thread, and his fingernails and toenails were dusted with gold powder.

After a full seven days and seven nights of labor, Indra was dressed into a statue shimmering with precious stones, looking as magnificent as possible. Gazing at him, Gu Xiechen felt this figure bore absolutely no resemblance to the Indra of his memory.

Once the toiling Asura beauties had finished tending to Indra, Poxun and the other twelve most powerful Asura Demon Kings stepped out from the ranks.

They stood beside Indra and began chanting complex sacrificial incantations, singing the solemn, majestic sacrificial hymns.

Indra’s body slowly began to float upward. He appeared utterly tranquil, a serene smile fixed on his face, like a young woman sleeping peacefully in her lover’s embrace, as if nothing in the world could threaten him. Gu Xiechen sent his divine sense probing high into the heavens, expecting Brahma and the other great deities to make a move.

But something astonishing happened that surprised Gu Xiechen: Brahma and the others had indeed noticed the Asuras’ proceedings, yet they showed no intention of intervening. Instead, they stood curiously atop the Three-Linked City, observing the sacrifice through their divine sight. Brahma smiled faintly, appearing to find a touch of mockery in Indra’s current elaborate adornment.

Shiva contemptuously shook his head, remarking that Poxun and the others’ version of the sacrificial chant was incomplete, missing many verses.

Vishnu, however, muttered to himself, offering the best commentary on Indra’s fate: “It is better if he dies. With the Asura faction losing its leader, they will be easier to control. If you want to cause trouble, we will grant your wish; let the chaos grow wild. ... First Indra becomes the sacrifice, and then who? Poxun? Or…?”

Lakshmi stood proudly beside Vishnu, while Tamas watched the three giants with open scorn.

The Devas were powerless to rescue Indra, and the great deities like Brahma were unwilling to act; Indra’s fate was sealed.

The thirty-six plumes of sacrificial fire slowly rose and drifted to a spot beneath Indra, coalescing into a massive bonfire that began to scorch his body. Gu Xiechen watched the suspended Indra, saw him sizzle and pop as the sacrificial fire roasted him, and felt the scene was strangely familiar—a sight he had witnessed countless times in duck roasting shops.

Sizzle~~~ A drop of grease seeped out from beneath Indra’s skin and dripped onto the sacrificial flame.

In an instant, a surge of magical power, so vast it startled even Gu Xiechen, erupted from that single burning drop of oil. It swiftly flowed into the thirteen principal Asura Demon Kings led by Poxun. The intensity of this power roughly equated to the total magical strength gained by an ordinary Mid-grade Daluo Golden Immortal after one hundred thousand years of ascetic cultivation!

And this much power came from just one drop of fat, the size of a soybean, weeping out of the thousand-li-tall Indra during his sacrifice!

When Indra’s body was completely consumed, when his life and soul were devoured by the sacrificial fire, how immense a power would the Asuras gain? And what extra rewards might they receive?

Gu Xiechen watched the bonfire with intense anticipation, waiting silently.