The colossal dragon head of Long Zhantian showed no hint of fear upon sensing the immense power contained within the Abi Sword. Instead, his eyes burned with a scorching fire—a look of unwavering devotion to his core belief. Dark, billowing flames erupted from his body, so powerful that the surrounding space seemed to distort and melt into mere phantoms.

Seeing Long Zhantian recklessly boost his power, Ashura’s face hardened with grim resolve. He knew Long Zhantian was truly fighting for his life now.

His internal demonic energy surged continuously as he focused entirely on wielding the Abi Sword, cleaving it down toward Long Zhantian. The entire Abi Sword radiated streams of blood-red light, and from the hilt, a colossal demonic visage materialized, clawing and snatching as it lunged at Long Zhantian’s massive dragon form.

Facing the gargantuan Abi Sword, Long Zhantian suddenly opened his dragon maw and unleashed a massive torrent of black flame, spewing it directly at the descending weapon.

As the sea of black fire surged towards the Abi Sword, Ashura spoke, his voice cutting through the roar: “Long Zhantian, do you truly believe your Dragon Flame can withstand the Abi Sword?”

Hiss… The Abi Sword pierced directly into the roaring inferno without hindrance, yet it didn't advance as Ashura had expected; instead, it met some tremendous resistance.

A massive recoil slammed into Ashura, forcing him to vomit a mouthful of blood instantly. Staring intently, he saw, embedded within the black flames, a colossal sphere of absolute blackness—it was Long Zhantian’s Dragon Core.

“Long Zhantian, are you insane?” Ashura roared aloud. He could not have imagined Long Zhantian would fight with such desperation, even ejecting his own inner core.

“Ashura, I am a descendant of the Wu. Even if my ancestors did not require me to act, their blood flows within me, and I must complete what they were meant to do. Ashura, let us die together…” Long Zhantian’s final words were almost a primal scream. As the sound faded, the massive, obsidian Dragon Core erupted with dazzling, blinding black light, unleashing a savage power that swept over everything.

Ashura’s complexion shifted instantly. He… he intended to self-detonate his Dragon Core? His body instinctively tried to retreat, but a deafening sound echoed through the void. Immediately, a blinding radiance enveloped the entire vicinity.

An overwhelmingly potent energy charge slammed into him. Blood-red light flashed continuously across Ashura’s form as he unleashed his demonic energy without reservation. Facing the self-destruction of a Demon Emperor powerhouse, even he could not guarantee survival.

Layers of dense energy shields formed around him, and the Abi Sword was brought forward to guard his front. Yet, the sheer magnitude of the energy shattered his protective shields into dust, and amidst the chaos, he heard violent cracking sounds.

Blood poured constantly from his mouth, his bones were fractured by the sheer concussive force, and even his seven facial orifices began spewing forth blood.

His skin was ripped away, flesh tearing and scattering, and even his mighty regenerative abilities struggled to cope with such devastating power.

Slowly, his bones were exposed, and even they began to crumble under the energy assault.

Just as Ashura’s body was about to be utterly annihilated, the Abi Sword suddenly shot out a fiery red beam of light that merged into Ashura’s very bones. Instantly, the bones turned blood-red, appearing crystalline and translucent, seemingly far stronger than before.

Gradually, as the wave of energy dissipated, Ashura miraculously survived. All his flesh and blood were destroyed; what remained was a skeleton of radiant gold and crimson, his head reduced to a skull where only two burning flames flickered in the eye sockets.

By this time, the surrounding earth had been blasted into a massive crater spanning several hundred kilometers, as if a comet had impacted. Beyond that, nothing remained. Long Zhantian’s shattered body lay in the deep pit. He managed to strain his colossal dragon head up, glancing at the golden-red skeleton that was Ashura, a flicker of weariness crossing his eyes.

“Lord Yinglong, I truly did my best…” he murmured this single sentence, and Long Zhantian’s head drooped. His body then began to shatter, fragment by fragment, dissolving into nothingness.

The very moment he perished, far away in the Leize Circle, the demonic dragon sanctuary, a vast Dragon Valley inhabited by tens of thousands of Demon Dragons—creatures inherently powerful in physique who ruled this domain—suddenly reacted.

As if sensing a seismic loss, every dragon lifted its gaze toward the eastern horizon.

“Your Majesty… His Majesty… he is gone!” the largest Demon Dragon suddenly choked out the words, two streams of bloody tears erupting from its eyes.

“Aooooh, aooooh…” Upon hearing this news, every single one of the thousands of Demon Dragons reared back and let out long, mournful cries to the heavens. Their roars were steeped in sorrow, resonant with ancient despair, and utterly helpless.

The immense howling echoed throughout the entire Dragon Valley, reverberating off the cliffs and seemingly broadcasting across the entire Leize Circle.

Even the demons engaged in battle far away with the Purple Flame Demon Clan heard the sound.

After a full quarter of an hour, the mournful cries finally ceased. The Demon Dragons, their eyes glistening with tears, turned to the largest dragon among them—the strongest in the clan aside from Long Zhantian: Long Ba!

“Mobilize the entire clan! Those not of our kind—slaughter without mercy!” Long Ba roared, violently beating his wings, launching himself into the air.

All the Demon Dragons instantly understood who he meant by ‘not of our kind.’ It was not referring to the Demon Race in general, but specifically the Wu Clan. Long Zhantian had established this decree long ago: should he ever die, the Demon Dragon Clan would mobilize its entire force to eradicate every demon in the Demon Realm that carried the bloodline of the Ashura Clan…

The tens of thousands of Demon Dragons spread their vast wings and soared into the sky, following Long Ba toward the territories of the other royal clans. Their strongest members boasted the power of Ninth Grade Demon Monarchs, and the weakest were First Grade Demon Monarchs—a force capable of sweeping through the entire Demon Realm. This was the true might of the Demon Dragon Clan.

The Evil Nightmare Clan territory, situated closest to the Demon Dragons, watched in horror as tens of thousands of dragons blotted out the sky. The faces of the Evil Nightmare Clan members left guarding their home turned ashen. Why would the normally isolationist Demon Dragon Clan emerge in such overwhelming force?