Journey to the End of the Night
Chapter 157 - 157 156 The 15 Royal Family Members

157: Chapter 156: The 15 Royal Family Members 157: Chapter 156: The 15 Royal Family Members Sikong sneered softly, his eyes revealing a tinge of profound sorrow and tartness.

“Our blood within our bones will no longer flow vibrantly like that of humans, and the heart beneath our chest will remain forever barren.

In the end, the soul within this body merely exists by relying on the instinct to thirst for blood.”

He chuckled lightly, “I’ve spent long and uninteresting eons in loneliness, yet I find myself strangely stirred by a single sentence from that little girl of the Nine Classics.”

His fingertips gently stroked the edge of the wine cup, the crimson liquid reflecting his blood-red pupils.

“In this world, no one laments that corpse demons cannot savor the myriad flavors of the Mortal World.

Humans only spurn corpse demons for being born of blood, for feeding on humans.

Not to mention, at the moment of death, there are no humans who would offer their blood willingly.

The countless cultivators from the Mortal World I have encountered think only of how to behead me and pluck out my heart until the very last moment, to offer them to that exalted, divinely radiant Immortal Venerable Zhu Zhan.”

He tapped his chest and, under Xing Wu’s watchful gaze, smiled, “It’s never been us who decide whether we are demons; it’s always been the Hundred Immortal Sects of this Mortal World.”

Sikong downed the last drop of wine in his cup in one gulp, and carelessly tossed aside the golden cup, his gaze as deadly as the night.

“So what?

How exactly did you determine that the boy has lost all his memory?”

Without waiting for Xing Wu to speak, he curled his lips into a smile, “I would advise you to answer my question seriously, or else, I wouldn’t mind breaking our pact and taking your life right here, letting those forsaken bones lie back down again.”

Xing Wu looked at the blood stains remaining on the ground from the earlier battle.

He walked over slowly, his black robe billowing like the sand of night.

He crouched down, his finger wiping up a trace of blood, “The look in his eyes, his eyes were too pure, not like those a corpse demon should possess.”

Sikong hummed meaningfully, “Indeed, corpse demons, they come into being through despairing and tragic deaths, enduring endless hardships.

Only then can they maintain the undying resentful spirits before being assimilated and reborn by the predecessors of corpse demons.

All corpse demons are malevolent beings of extreme evil.

Hidden in their dark, tainted eyes are the things humans fear most to see.

Because he has lost his memory, his gaze is as clear as that of an innocent child.

Your explanation is perfect.”

He lightly lifted a finger resting on the armrest of his throne, then let it fall.

A drop of leftover wine from the fallen golden cup floated up, transforming into an extremely thin and long line of blood.

The blood line whipped out, creating a wind as ferocious as a violent storm, bursting with the terrifying rumble of gales.

With a splat, Xing Wu’s left arm was severed cleanly at the root, spraying blood as it flew high into the air.

The bloodlust in Sikong’s eyes seemed to be swept away by the storm, dissolving rapidly into a beautiful white-gold color, causing a chilling surge, much like the sea on a chaotic, stormy night.

His voice deep and dangerous, “The explanation is perfect, but you are lying to me.”

Blood gushed from where Xing Wu’s arm had been, but he rose calmly, as if insensible to the pain, and walked off to retrieve his severed limb.

He gazed steadily at Sikong with a serene look, then suddenly offered a smiling expression, “It hurts, doesn’t it?

Fancy dying again?”

Sikong dramatically clutched his forehead, “Such a smile truly suits the likes of villains like you.”

Xing Wu tugged at the corner of his mouth, his pale teeth faintly visible.

“Speaking of which, my little brother really is too interesting.

The corpse demon Talent of ‘Devour’ has always belonged to Xiao Li, yet he managed to awaken a talent with similar properties.

This is indeed a question worthy of deep reflection.” Sikong said with a cheerful and expectant smile.

Xing Wu reattached and healed his severed arm, saying, “What’s more interesting is that he was able to pull out the sword-seal of Immortal Venerable Zhu Zhan from the Immortal World.

Clearly…”

He squinted his deep eyes, an inscrutable light swirling in his dark pupils, “This is impossible.”

Sikong laced his fingers together, comfortably resting his chin on his clasped hands.

“I’m truly looking forward to it.

After all, our father has not created new offspring for such a long time, even I am about to forget what my fifteen brothers looked like.”

Xing Wu snorted coldly, “You have been stripped of your surname, and Corpse King Jiang Chen no longer acknowledges you as part of the Corpse Demon Royal Bloodline.

During the grand battle between the Immortal and Demon paths, only sixteen monarch-level members were recorded in the Corpse Demon Royal Family’s annals.

Although you are a descendant of Jiang Chen’s first generation, your name has long been selectively forgotten by those sixteen, and you are the ‘sinner’ among the Corpse Demon Clan.

That revered father of yours is not someone you can call upon now.”

Sikong’s expression faltered, but unusually, he did not respond with sarcasm.

As Xing Wu continued, “If you wish to joyfully kill the remaining two descendants of the Corpse King’s bloodline and achieve some twisted sense of satisfaction, let me give you a piece of advice: cherish the hard-earned freedom you have, because from now on, times are changing.”

Sikong frowned and said, “What an abstract word of comfort.”

Xing Wu revealed a sinister smile, “Considering I’m in a good mood tonight, I might as well share another secret with you.”

Sikong’s eyes narrowed as he watched him.

Wrapped in his black robe, Xing Wu vanished into the darkening eve, leaving behind his final words of the night.

“The Demon Lord has awakened, and the disintegrated Demon Territory of the Netherworld, fragmented for ten thousand years, has been reclaimed by the Demon Lord himself.

All seventy-two Demon Generals of the Prison Law have submitted to their lord, and now, with the Northern Demon Sect under his command, the lord will appear before the Mortal World in human form, reigning over the Demon Sect and waging war against the Three Sects of the Mortal World.

As for you, you’d best look after yourself.”

Sikong watched the black flames, his eyes gradually brewing with the stormy tumult of a moonlit night.

…

…

Autumn winds rustled through the deep forest.

Due to its hazardous nature, few ventured into the area, allowing moss to spread unfetteredly on the heavy valley walls, further emphasizing the desolation, the wilderness silent.

Once outside the Barrier of the Chaotic Netherworld Valley, lay dense forests and mountainous terrains.

Beyond the mountains, there lay a great lake, upon which a tranquil, fine drizzle was falling.

Thin strands of rain dropped into the serene blue waters, causing barely a ripple, spreading softly.

Next to an ancient giant tree, its robust roots broke through the earth, jutting out above ground.

The dark brown surface of the roots was deeply cracked, a testament to the relentless erosion of time.

Wen Hanwei leaned against the ancient tree, bloodstained and seated on the roots in a meditative posture, eyes closed to recuperate from her injuries.

Baili An stood quietly by her side, not speaking to avoid disturbance.

The white rabbit they had picked up lay next to his boots, its head resting on the leather, looking as if it was dozing, seemingly unwell.

Wen Hanwei was severely injured, and that did not mean she had shown weakness in battle.

It was simply because Sikong was too powerful, and more so in such a dark Earth Realm, making the fight all the more unfavorable for her.

She would need a long time to heal and recuperate.

Dawn’s first light began to peek through the skies.

The world was welcoming the first rays that would chase away the long night.

Wen Hanwei, still not fully recovered, pinched a Soul Collection Technique, halted her cultivation and meditation, and ceased her meditation.