Silence fell, deep and absolute.
The three men — Fang Wu, Wuji, and Baotian did not speak. They couldn't.
They all knew the weight behind those words.
The enmity between the Heavenly Demons and the Heavenly Gods was not a feud born of time.
It was a hatred so ancient, it had long since woven itself into the very blood of both races.
And their Martial Ancestor — The Martial God, whose divine bloodline could shake the heavens was the living symbol of that war.
To inherit his legacy was to inherit both glory… and eternal enmity of the Heavenly Demons.
Among the three present, only Baotian knew what had happened to the first disciple of the Martial Ancestor.
Ever since that tragedy, the Ancestor had refused to take another inheritor.
But now — something had changed. Something, or someone, had moved even him.
"It seems the preparations are complete," the Martial Ancestor finally said, his tone calm, almost indifferent.
