บท 681: The Secret of God’s Blood

"Another era has ended," mumbled the figure standing atop the blood eye to himself as he looked out into the distance.

The demonic god's words carried a sentimental tone as several old memories flashed in his mind. He had once hovered above a ravine and stared beyond the horizon, just like today. He had quietly watched lightning flash in the distance, observed glorious sword rays, and revered the cultivators' godlike prowess. He next witnessed their fall from glory, the end of an era, and he struggled to survive against all odds.

All of a sudden, his face contorted in pain. Keeling over, he hissed, "Scoundrel!"

Ai Hui was like a persistent cockroach that capitalized on every small window of opportunity. The overwhelming sense of nostalgia had momentarily weakened his will, giving Ai Hui a chance to attack. The demonic god was mentally and emotionally drained. He hated this feeling.

But he could not do anything about this annoying pest.