Chapter 587: Chapter 545: Demon Lord Returns to the City_2

Seeing her truly enraged, Zangxin realized that even the Demon Lord’s severe injury might have touched her Reverse Scale, and it was not appropriate to continue talking. He could only lead the people to withdraw and search for the traitors in the city.

And without the Demon Lord’s permission, the physicians of the Demon Clan dared not approach her for treatment; it was clear to everyone from the murderous intent in her eyes.

When the Demon Lord was angry, it could be said that destruction came to all directions.

No one dared to upset her at this moment.

The gathered Demon Clan scattered like birds and beasts at rapid speed, each returning to their duties.

Ning Feiyan looked at the deepening night, the feigned murderous aura in her eyes gradually overtaken by a defeated weakness. She bowed her head and vomited two mouthfuls of fresh blood, intending to return to the Netherworld Palace to suppress the rampant injuries inside her body.

But contrary to her desires, the unforgiving heavens sent thunder rumbling in the distance, and in that terrifying lightning of All Heavens, black Demonic Qi swept across and cleaved open the majority of the sky.

A mysterious and vast breath crossed mountains and borders, returning towards the Ming Continent with alarming speed and a domineering stance.

Ning Feiyan’s complexion was deathly pale, her teeth chattered with cold.

With one day left before the three-day appointment, she had already returned.

Her eyes suddenly lost all vitality, the pressure of spiritual death made her exceptionally weary and burdened. Knowing that it was no longer possible to protect herself while disguised as the Demon Lord, she hesitated no longer and flew rapidly toward Chao Mu Hall.

Seizing the brief opportunity before the Demon Lord’s return, she concealed herself within the cover of night, her body dripping with blood, yet she remained extremely vigilant and careful not to leave a single trace on the ground.

At the cliff’s edge, Shu Ci, who had left early, faintly appeared in the dim shadows. Her eyes were like those of a devil—cold and profound—they pierced through Ning Feiyan’s panic, and her cold, grey lips curled into a cruel smile.

When the Demon Lord returned to the Royal Hall, the city was already in an uproar; the streets and alleys beneath Royal City were filled with Demon Soldiers, and even Demon Generals were stationed and on guard.

Going door to door for a census and interrogation, although Royal City at this moment wasn’t chaotic like a boiling pot, there hasn’t been such a commotion in many years.

The Demonic Qi in the sky churned into a ferocious Demon Dragon, with the Demon Lord standing atop the Dragon Head, her black robe ink-like, her gaze was cold and calm as she observed everything happening in the city.

She did not conceal her aura; thus, Erhe Zangxin was greatly shocked and hurried over, looking at the unharmed Demon Lord in astonishment, incredulously uttering, “Your… Your Majesty?”

The Demon Lord’s enigmatic eyes gently turned, her tone as calm as water at the bottom of an ancient well, “Royal City today is quite lively.”

Zangxin’s scalp tingled, and he cautiously asked, “Why does Your Majesty return to the city from the outside world? These days are not the time for visiting the Xuanting Cave, right?”

The Demon Lord hummed lightly, “I took a trip to Qingzhou, only returning today.”

At this point, Zangxin was completely certain that the Demon Lord he had seen earlier in Xuanting Cave was an impostor.

Who could be so daring and desperate to impersonate the Demon Lord and infiltrate the ancient Forbidden Land of the Demon Clan?

What exactly did they want to do?

And how did they manage to do it?

Zangxin’s mind was in complete turmoil. The Young Lord had gone so far as to sever his own arm and even sacrificed the Resentful Demon clan, who were remnants of the old Demon Lord’s Dark Department, last wishes to refine the Shed Demon Sharp. They did not hesitate to pay any price to remove this colossal disaster.

Who would have expected that, after all these efforts, the Shed Demon Sharp would be wasted on an unknown and severely injured creature from nowhere.

After today, trying to assassinate the Demon Lord would only become more difficult.

Zangxin was overwhelmed with hatred and grief but dared not show even a hint of it on his face. He gravely said, “Today, Resentful Demons lurked in the shadows, attempting to slay Your Majesty. Before that, we discovered in Xuanting Cave that Your Majesty had been severely injured. From this, it must be due to a daring and reckless person who disguised themselves as Your Majesty and intruded upon the Forbidden Land.”

The Demon Lord’s face showed no surprise, her lowered eyelids casting a light shadow, and with such a simple gesture, Zangxin suddenly felt the atmosphere turn suffocating.

He listened as the Demon Lord lightly chuckled, her right hand slowly extending from her sleeve. She held a bud-blooming golden flower between her slender, pale fingers. For a moment, it was difficult to tell whether the flower or her hand was more pleasing to the eye.

She held the flower before her eyes, her charming and narrow pupils reflecting a trace of imperceptible fierceness. Squinting slightly, she calmly said, “Given the severe injuries, it should not be difficult to find this person in the city, should it?”

In the pouring night, the ever-burning lantern flickered softly, with fireflies gathered and moving in strings.

Ning Feiyan returned to Chao Mu Hall, burning her blood-soaked clothing to ashes and changing into a clean, loose moon-white sleeping robe. It hung slackly on her body, accentuating her frail and thin shoulders.

She lit incense in the room to mask the scent of fresh blood.

Hong Zhuang stood at the entrance looking lost, watching as Feiyan frantically searched the hall for something, blood uncontrollably flowing from her nose and lips, her appearance pale and haggard, with an underlying hint of deathly ash, as if she might collapse at any moment.

Hong Zhuang had never seen Ning Feiyan in such disarray. Her eyes rapidly reddened as she approached, voice choked, “Sister, what are you looking for? Let me help you.”

Ning Feiyan’s frantic search came to an abrupt halt. She lifted her cold gaze and said mockingly, “Help me? What could you possibly have to offer me? When your face was ruined, you escaped that disaster. Even the task of attending the Si He Royal Hall was taken over by me. Mi Lu ostensibly wanted to marry a Young Princess Consort, but the entire clan knew he needed someone to withstand the backlash of misery in his body. Under our parents’ favoritism, it was still me who completed the marriage contract on your behalf. From childhood to adulthood, which disaster of yours have I not shielded you from?”

With the doors to the hall not fully closed, the cold wind swept in. The atmosphere of the silent Chao Mu Hall was chilling.

Hong Zhuang stood rooted to the spot, suddenly feeling a chill in her body as if she had been slapped hard across the face. She had no grounds for retort and was utterly shamed.

Because everything Ning Feiyan said was true.

Ning Feiyan’s eyes were filled with mockery as she hurtfully spoke, “I never asked you to do anything for me. Why involve yourself in this laughable self-indulgence? Do you think I’m disgusted by the face under your mask?”

Hong Zhuang stood there, stunned, as if something sour and hard blocked her throat, her eyes growing redder, “Sister…”

Ning Feiyan looked down, her expression obscured in shadow, only her voice filled with hatred slowly emerged.

“What I despise most is your pretentious act. If you want to cry, go to our mother. Watching you makes me sick.”

Although Ning Feiyan was cold by nature, she seldom used such venomous words to hurt others. When she said that something disgusted her, it unquestionably did.

Hong Zhuang suddenly felt like a shameful stain that couldn’t see the light, too embarrassed to stay a moment longer. Gathering what little self-respect she had left, she fled from Chao Mu Hall in disarray.

Outside, the night grew deeper, seemingly endless.

Ning Feiyan didn’t spare Hong Zhuang another glance. She found a brazier and stoked the charcoal fire.

She retrieved a long, pale tusk from the Qiankun Bag, roasting it over the flames.

The tip of the tusk turned a sinister blackish purple at a visibly fast pace, emanating a venomous glow, looking crystalline.

Suddenly, the window was pushed open, letting in the drizzle that dampened the windowsill.

Baili An entered through the window and, at first glance, saw Ning Feiyan seated calmly on the bench, her vitality extremely weak, nearly at death’s door, yet her gaze remained exceptionally bright, reflecting off the charcoal stove, as if a flame burned deep within her pupils that could not be extinguished.

He frowned at the sight of the sharply curved tusk in her hand, its tip oozing with a poison-like purple-black substance that was deeply unsettling.

Ning Feiyan glanced at Baili An and did not reproach him for failing their agreement, her tone indifferent, “I need you to do me a favor.”

Baili An glanced at her complexion, his gaze shifting slightly as he frowned and stepped quickly behind her. As his fingers lifted the edge of her collar, he saw her back, a horror too dreadful to bear, the energy of dead resentment exceedingly dense.