The Sacred Leaves Family's Wishes for Peace

Only now did the three great demons lying in the crater truly understand—Fang Ting wasn't at the Eighth or Ninth Heaven of the Saint King realm.

He was a damned Emperor-level cultivator!!

Otherwise, they would never have lost this miserably.

That realization filled their hearts with bitter despair—Their chances of survival were slim.

But they hadn't given up yet.

"Whoosh!"

The Golden-Winged Tiger Clan's old patriarch used his innate divine ability again. With his current strength, his golden wings allowed him to cover tens of thousands of miles in the blink of an eye. Among Saint Kings, there were few who could rival his speed.

Unfortunately, he was facing an Emperor.

"This time, no more running."

The voice sounded as if it were right in his ear. The Golden-Winged Tiger patriarch turned his head—and saw a giant hand in the void reaching down toward him.

Seeing that hand, a sense of utter despair surged in his heart. No matter what he did, he could never escape it.

"NO—!!"

The massive hand seized him and dragged him back.

Within Fang Ting's domain of laws, all beings weaker than him were inherently suppressed.

The three great demons lay collapsed, their demonic power sealed, unable to even struggle—reduced to helplessness.

They didn't know if they'd live or die, but they were now certain:

In front of Emperor Fang Ting, the eight-clan demon alliance was as fragile as paper.

Even Fang Luo and the others finally understood the source of Fang Ting's confidence:

He was the only cultivator in all of post-ancient Cangzhou to break through to the Emperor realm.

If this news got out, it would shake Cangzhou to its very foundations—restructuring the entire balance of power.

Fang Qiuefeng stared at the three collapsed Saint Kings, practically drooling.

He'd never eaten a Saint King-level demon before.

Meanwhile, Bai Qingxue finally understood why Fang Ting had dared to suggest appointing his own spirit beast as the new Demon Sovereign.

With this kind of power, it wasn't audacity—it was common sense.

Not to mention, Little Grey was a descendant of the ancient divine beast Suanni.

With enough luck, he might reach the Emperor Realm too someday.

He was more than qualified to rule the Northern Region.

Roughly half an hour later—

"RUMBLE—!!"

Thunderclouds gathered in the distance, lightning crackling as a mighty pressure surged forward—like a tide of ancient beasts descending upon them.

The weaker ones, like Bai Qingxue, were immediately knocked backward, coughing blood from the sheer pressure.

Some of the weaker Heavenfire Blazebeast clansmen suffered the same.

Even Fang Luo and the others, at the Great Saint level, had to activate all their defenses to barely withstand the oppressive force.

"Hua!"

With a wave of his hand, Fang Ting instantly erased the crushing pressure around them.

The sudden relief made them feel like they'd just escaped death itself.

Had Fang Ting not intervened, they likely would've died before the enemy even arrived.

Bai Qingxue's fair face, now streaked with blood at the lips, held a strange new glow. She looked at Fang Ting with a complex, deep gaze.

"BOOM!"

"BOOM!"

The thunderclouds above resembled a military formation of countless troops descending from the sky. Lightning danced within, brewing terrifying destructive force.

Everyone looked up.

At the front of the storm flew a colossal horned dragon, thousands of feet long—The Qiu Dragon King.

In Fang Luo's past life, this beast had successfully broken through to the Emperor Realm and become the Demon Sovereign of the Northern Region.

Right now, the Qiu Dragon King was at the peak of the Saint King realm—his front foot already across the threshold to the Emperor Realm. Far more powerful than any other Ninth Heaven Saint King.

Behind him were the other Saint Kings of the imperial clans.

Though not as terrifying as the Qiu Dragon King, their collective presence was equally oppressive.

If they had been any closer just now, their combined pressure would've killed everyone present—except Fang Ting and the few other Saint Kings.

In the blink of an eye—

The Qiu Dragon King's army had arrived.

He glanced at the three fallen patriarchs, then turned his gaze to Fang Ting.

"You are Fang Ting, Patriarch of the Fang Clan?"

His voice cracked like thunder, echoing across a thousand miles.

Fang Ting stood calmly, white robes fluttering, as if facing nothing more than three ants. He gave a simple nod—then gestured toward Little Grey.

"I want him to be the Demon Sovereign. You will assist him."

Those words made the Qiu Dragon King's rage explode.

As one of the most powerful surviving ancient beasts, he had conquered eight clans, destroyed two hegemonic dynasties, and was on the verge of unifying the Northern Region and breaking through to the Emperor Realm.

Now Fang Ting wanted him to hand all that over to a spirit beast?

Was this man insane?!

"ROAR!!"

The Qiu Dragon King let out a thunderous roar, shaking the void and flattening everything within tens of thousands of miles.

"Die!!"

With a twist of his massive body, he shot forward, maw wide, trying to swallow Fang Ting whole.

But even when he was mere feet away—Fang Ting didn't move.

The Qiu Dragon King succeeded in swallowing him—whole.

"That's all? Hahahaha—ugh..."

Just as he laughed in triumph, the Qiu Dragon King felt a sharp pain in his gut.

"BOOM!!"

His abdomen exploded, torn open by a massive force—blood spraying across the sky.

Fang Ting floated out slowly, white robes untouched by blood.

"If you refuse—then die."

Before the Qiu Dragon King could even scream, beg, or react—Fang Ting raised his hand, formed a blade, and struck.

"SLASH!"

The dragon froze.

Eyes bulging. Jaws gaping. But no sound emerged.

"SPLURT!!"

His head was cleanly severed from his body—his very soul split in two.

Had Fang Ting not considered the dragon's body a valuable resource—and wanted to leave it intact for Fang Qiuefeng to absorb—he would've simply vaporized him with a punch.

And just like that—The Qiu Dragon King, future Demon Sovereign, and ancient beast on the cusp of ascension... fell.

No epic duel. No grand finale.

Just a clean, effortless instant kill.

At that moment, everyone finally understood—The gap between the Emperor Realm and everything beneath it was vast beyond imagining.

It didn't matter how rare your bloodline was…

How incredible your talent was…

If you hadn't stepped into the Emperor Realm—Then before one who had…

You were nothing.

You wouldn't even have the chance to resist—or regret.