A few days after the firestorm dissipated, the oppressive heat of the world still lingered. However, compared to the previous scenes of destruction, everything had mostly returned to normal.

The cultivators who survived the battle had regained some of their strength and gathered around the massive ancestor of the Demonfolk, each looking up in silence.

Beside them lay the charred remains of the Demon King, which crumbled to ash at the slightest touch, while the colossal figure of the ancestor stood firm, even in death, proclaiming to the world that it had once returned.

Li Xiaotian stepped forward, feeling the fragility beneath him, where the remnants of the blood sea had been left after the inferno.