Ying Huanhuan had received the God of Emotion title from Ye Feng back in the Douluo Plane. By integrating emotions into her music, she unlocked a terrifyingly effective power.
With a single song of anxiety, she had wiped out countless demons sealed within the Demon Suppression Prison. Though these demons had been imprisoned for eons and their strength had diminished, the feat of slaying hundreds of millions in a single performance was something she had never achieved in her past life.
"The Law of Emotion? I thought your domain was ice," the Lord of Darkness asked, brow raised in surprise.
"In addition to the Law of Ice, I now wield the Law of Emotion," Ying Huanhuan replied calmly, her eyes falling on Ye Feng. "Feng gave me something called a Godhead. It's similar in concept to an ancestral talisman. Once you acquire one, you gain authority over a specific law. My Law of Emotion comes from the first-level Godhead he granted me."
"Godhead?" The Lord of Darkness turned her gaze toward Ye Feng, interest flickering in her eyes. "Comparable to Master's power? You said first-level. Are there different classifications of these Godheads?"
"There are," Ying Huanhuan explained. "Third-level Godheads grant three halos. Second-levels grant five. First-levels grant seven. And above all those… is the Supreme Godhead, which grants nine halos."
"And him?"
"Feng has ten halos. He's beyond Supreme—he's a Super God. A Creator. The Maker."
"The Creator?" the Lord of Darkness blinked. "The one Master told us about—the entity capable of shaping all things?"
Ying Huanhuan nodded. "Exactly that."
The Lord of Darkness stared at her in silence for a moment, then let out a low laugh. "You're joking."
When Fu Zu accepted her as a disciple, he had spoken of countless secrets of the vast universe—of realms beyond imagination, and the legend of the Creator. That being could forge everything from nothingness. Fu Zu had journeyed to the Tianxuan Continent from the Great Thousand World in pursuit of such power.
But in the end, Fu Zu had failed to seize the Plane Embryo of Tianxuan. He had never grasped the true power of chaos, let alone reached the level of the Creator.
So the Lord of Darkness couldn't help but doubt it.
But Ying Huanhuan didn't argue. She merely smiled.
In the sky, Ye Feng raised his hand, summoning the Chaos Cauldron. He slammed his palm against it, infusing it with a torrent of chaos energy. The cauldron expanded rapidly, growing to a scale that covered the entirety of the Demon Suppression Prison.
"What is he doing?" the Lord of Darkness asked.
"He's refining the Demon Prison," Ying Huanhuan said flatly. "If we stay here, we'll be refined along with it."
The Chaos Cauldron had not only covered the massive Demon Suppression Prison, but also spread toward their location. If Ye Feng activated its full power, even Ying Huanhuan and the others would be swept into the alchemical destruction.
Just as they were about to retreat—
Swoosh!
A spatial ripple formed beneath their feet.
In the blink of an eye, all four women—Ying Huanhuan, Tang Xinlian, Mu Lingshan, and the Lord of Darkness—were transported outside the cauldron's range.
From afar, they could see the prison being consumed. The Chaos Sacred Cauldron now covered everything. The edge of the cauldron stretched beyond the horizon, as if swallowing the very sky. Ye Feng began channeling his strange flame into the array, refining the demonic energy trapped within.
"The power of space… and the power of flame…" The Lord of Darkness muttered, her eyes widening.
Both energies were on par with the ancestral talismans in strength.
"What kind of existence is he…?"
Suddenly, a wave of powerful auras approached from the distance. Dozens of figures soared through the sky, led by a man emanating the cultivation of the Wheel Mirror.
"Who are you people?"
The newcomers were from the Dragon Clan, drawn by the eruption of dragon energy and demonic aura. One of the leaders, an elder dragon cultivator, paused mid-air, locking eyes on the Lord of Darkness.
"…You! The aura of dragon blood—are you one of us?"
Tang Xinlian gasped. "The Lord of Darkness… is a dragon?"
The dragon elder's face twisted with confusion. "Lord of Darkness?" he repeated.
"Don't be so surprised," Ying Huanhuan said calmly. "Of the Eight Ancient Masters, most were disciples our Master accepted on the Tianxuan Continent. My senior sister is indeed of the Dragon Clan. The Lord of Life and Death is from the Immortal Holy Whale Clan."
The elder's expression shifted. "You… you really are our ancestor?"
Yuan Qian—the one who had once broken through in the Demon Suppression Prison by drawing upon dragon energy—stepped forward. Back then, he had sensed a powerful presence within the darkness. Now that he saw her again, he was certain: this was the entity he had felt.
But even so, doubt lingered.
"…Have the dragons forgotten me?" the Lord of Darkness asked quietly.
It wasn't truly a question—more of a lament. So much time had passed. The ancient war had become myth. Most cultivators didn't even know what alien demons were, much less the identities of the Eight Ancient Masters.
"Ancestor…"
"Enough," she cut him off, raising her hand.
Though she acknowledged her dragon blood, she spoke with pride and distance. "Yes, I am a dragon. But I am not your dragon. I came from the Great Thousand World."
A pulse of dark energy surged from her, gently pushing the saluting dragons back.
Compared to the dragons of this lower plane, her origins placed her on an entirely different tier. The sense of superiority in her voice wasn't arrogance—it was simple fact.
Half an hour passed.
The massive Demon Suppression Prison had been fully refined. The black towers, the evil mist—all of it vanished.
In Ye Feng's hand floated two items.
One was a pill—round, black, and pulsing with a thick deathly aura. Not corrupted demonic energy, but a kind of extinguished force—a dead demonic essence.
The other was a small black tower, only about twenty centimeters tall. Despite its size, it radiated terrifying power. Purple runes glimmered on its surface, and the space around it had been pushed into a vacuum by its mere presence.
Ye Feng looked down at it.
"The Black Tower belongs to you," he said, gesturing toward the Lord of Darkness.
With a wave of his hand, the tower floated before her.
She accepted it without hesitation.
This was the essence of all the Demon Suppression Prison's power—a supreme sealing and purification artifact. Refined from countless demonic corpses and infused with chaos and strange fire, its rank now surpassed nearly all known divine items. It could very well be among the top three on the Ancient Divine Object List.
She turned to Ye Feng thoughtfully, then elbowed Ying Huanhuan lightly and smirked. "Junior sister, I recall we once made an agreement."
"What agreement?" Ying Huanhuan asked, blinking.
The Lord of Darkness grinned.
"If either of us found a husband, he'd become the other's as well. And if we both remained single, we'd stay that way together."
"Eh?!"
Ying Huanhuan froze.
Then realization dawned.
The Lord of Darkness… was planning to set her sights on Ye Feng.
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