Chapter 101: The Shattered Seal

Gu Xiaoyao and Xie Jinxuan took in the world around them before they climbed a mountain, bringing along several jars of Daughter Red wine.

Stretched out on the ground, they let the earth’s fragrance wash over them as they gazed up at the moon, bright and full in the sky. Stars sprinkled the night, twinkling as crickets sang in the background.

Fireflies floated above, glimmering as they fluttered their wings softly overhead.

Worry darkened Gu Xiaoyao’s face. Lately, he had a growing sense that something was wrong—the words of Murong Qingxue and the Stone Statue kept echoing in his mind: disaster was on the horizon.

“Sigh, who knows how much longer these peaceful days will last.” Gu Xiaoyao rested his head on his arm, staring at that lonely sliver of moonlight above.

“Come on, Xiaoyao, quit brooding. Have a drink of this top-quality Daughter Red!” Xie Jinxuan gave the jar in his hand a gentle shake.

A faint smile touched Gu Xiaoyao’s lips. “You’re right, Jinxuan. Tonight, I’ll savor your wine and see if it lives up to its reputation.”

Raising their cups to the bright moon, the two drank heartily. After a few rounds, they were tipsy, and a cool evening breeze cleared their heads for just a moment.

……………….

A butterfly’s wings, brushing against fate, can stir up a storm.

At the border between the Human and Demon Races, a small demon squad watched the seal before them—a seal that could tear at any moment—with giddy anticipation. For thousands of years, this barrier had blocked their path, but now it seemed close to breaking.

Guards kept vigilant watch here, all eager to witness history and prepare for the coming invasion.

The twelfth lunar month brought biting winter, with the Spring Festival just around the corner. Snowflakes drifted from the sky, fluttering down like feathers and blanketing the land.

People across Sword Qi Continent rejoiced, sharing the festive spirit with friends and family.

Yet amid this happiness, something shattered the peace—a jarring sound amid the celebration.

In that instant when the blacksmith’s hammer struck, the ancient barrier that had protected the Human Race for millennia cracked open, leaving a small breach.

“This is bad—the seal’s broken! The Human Race is in danger!” Far away, Murong Qingxue’s eyes flew open after a long meditation.

The world changed in a heartbeat. Clouds gathered, winds howled, and the sky seemed to darken.

From that fracture, a terrifying aura of despair burst forth, spreading dread in every direction.

People in the midst of celebration stared in horror, with no clue what disaster had just struck.

A massive rift had opened at the seal, spewing waves of sinister energy that swept across the entire continent.

That aura sent shivers down every spine, as if demons were about to crawl from the depths of hell—the shadow of catastrophe loomed overhead.

Terror and despair filled the hearts of the people, sending them fleeing in every direction.

But wherever they ran, that dreadful energy stalked them like a shadow. There was nowhere to hide.

Panic and grief left them lost and helpless, at a loss for how to face this calamity.

Through the blood-red mist, a team of demon vanguards slowly poked their heads out of the rift. They sniffed the fresh outside air, then broke into wild, unrestrained laughter.

“Hahaha! At last, it’s done! That damned seal finally cracked. Hurry, send word to the King—let him decide what comes next!”

Joy was written all over the vanguard’s faces as they gazed at the breach. They had waited an eternity for this moment.

But they held themselves back, knowing after thousands of years they understood nothing of today’s humans. Only by knowing one’s enemy and oneself could they win each battle, so caution was key.

Leaving two guards behind, the rest of the demons turned to head home, back to the harsh land that was their home.

The Demon Domain—dangerous and shrouded in mystery—was the heartland of the Demon Race.

Here, the land stretched from blistering deserts to frozen glaciers and eerie marshes, painting a landscape most would never dare approach.

Step into the Demon Domain and instantly you feel the crushing weight in the air.

Overhead, red moons hung high, casting their strange glow on everything below.

Each moon seemed to hold a hidden power, filling intruders with unease and fear.

In this harsh world, the demons survived and thrived. Their bodies, hardened by the land, were strong and resilient.

Skin like dark gray armor, scales glittering with a metallic sheen, crimson eyes that revealed a harsh and ruthless nature.

Demons hunted to live, ranging across their territory in search of prey daring enough to cross their borders. Masters of combat, they excelled at both magic and weaponry.

Wings gave them flight, letting them strike swiftly and unpredictably in battle.

In the vastness of the Demon Domain stood Demon God Peak—the highest point in the entire region.

Its summit lay hidden under a thick, unbroken fog, keeping its secrets well-guarded.

Legend had it the Demon God Lin Mo conjured that mist, not only to block prying eyes but to empower those living atop the mountain.

Lin Mo ruled the Demon Domain—his court of Demon Lords and Demon Saints serving as his closest lieutenants.

Each Demon Lord and Demon Saint commanded swaths of territory, maintaining order under Lin Mo’s rule.

Deep within Demon God Peak stood a towering palace, Lin Mo’s residence and the seat of his power.

Inside, arrays of strange runes and arcane spell circles layered the walls, enhancing Lin Mo’s strength even further.

The Peak wasn’t just the center of power or Lin Mo’s home—it was where powerful demons gathered to chart the future of their race.

Here, they would debate, plan and do whatever it took to defend Lin Mo’s rule.

…………………….

Inside the grand palace, Lin Mo lounged on the Demon God’s throne, eyes half-closed. Two long rows of Demon Lords and Demon Saints sat below him, locked in a heated debate.

Lin Mo—master of the Demon Realm—radiated an imposing, enigmatic presence.

His form was tall and powerful, commanding awe even in silence.

He sat with eyes nearly shut, deep in thought. Yet open his gaze, and it would chill anyone to the bone.

The throne itself, carved from obsidian and inlaid with gemstones and pearls, stood at the center of the great hall.

Its tall, decorated backrest showcased exquisite patterns, a testament to Lin Mo’s authority.

Below, Demon Lords and Demon Saints—elite commanders of the demon realm—each radiated their own unique aura of strength.

Some were massive and imposing, others small but fierce, and still others strikingly beautiful.

Robes, gleaming armor, revealing dresses—they dressed to display both status and personality.

Animated and passionate, the Demon Lords and Saints gestured, argued and pondered, filling the palace with rising voices.

Their voices rose and fell—from somber lows to passionate highs—blending together like a wild symphony.

A tense, electric energy filled the chamber, as if war could break out at any moment.