NOVPUBXu Zimei looked up at the scene inside the doorway.
At this moment, more than one hundred thousand people were kneeling and bowing to him, a dense crowd carrying a mighty Demonic Qi.
The Prison Suppressor Demon Body within him stirred even more wildly as the Demonic Qi roared towards him.
"Everyone, rise," Xu Zimei said, lifting his hand.
With a "rumbling" sound, countless people stood up, their gazes burning as they looked at Xu Zimei.
He was their king.
"I have come here to understand some things," Xu Zimei stated.
"My lord has any doubts, feel free to ask," the Zen Nightmare Demon General hurriedly replied.
"What was the Demon Race like in the previous epochs, or rather, what were those times like?" Xu Zimei inquired.
"I am very curious about my own past.
There always seem to be people, and some fragments of memories appearing in my mind."
"That epoch is very distant now, my lord. If you are not in a hurry, you can listen to us explain slowly," the Zen Nightmare Demon General responded.
"I have plenty of time. I came to the Sealing Ground this time, firstly, to meet you all.
Secondly, to clarify my own past," Xu Zimei nodded.
"My lord, please look," with a wave of his right hand, the Zen Nightmare Demon General released a mighty stream of Demonic Qi.
The Demonic Qi enveloped the entire Ancient Demon Cave, within which many scenes unfolded.
..........
In the initial period of the Cosmos Ze Era, people coexisted in peace.
There were no wars, no conflicts whatsoever.
Everyone lived and worked in contentment.
Later, the path of cultivation became widely embraced, and everyone embarked on the journey toward immortality.
In the world, there were countless creatures, and the saying goes there were three thousand races.
In fact, the actual number of races was far more than three thousand.
And the Demon Race was one among them.
People are greedy; what is a human?
Joy, anger, sorrow, thought, grief, fear, and shock—that is human.
Arrogance, envy, greed, lust—that too is human.
Humans have two sides, good as well as evil.
Where there are humans, there are societies.
As everyone knows, there were ten great Immortal Sects.
They sought to rule the entire world, yet people yearned for freedom—are there any who are willing to be ruled?
Who is nobler than whom?
Therefore, the ten great Immortal Sects created the notion of evil.
They sought to incarnate as benevolent beings, using the pretext of protecting all life to rule the world.
Thus, making people dependent on them.
They elevated the status of the ten great Immortal Sects above all others.
And the mission of representing evil fell upon the Demon Race.
No one knew why the ten great Immortal Sects chose the Demon Race.
It could have been a random choice, a matter of luck.
Or perhaps they were easy targets due to their weakness.
Regardless, from that day on, the Demon Race was linked with evil.
It became an indelible mark and label that could never be erased.
In the propaganda of the ten great Immortal Sects, the Demon Race became the epitome of an evil race that sought the destruction of the world.
They were to be exterminated by everyone.
And the ten great Immortal Sects became heroes, slaying monsters, exorcising demons, and protecting people.
Naturally, they then held the discursive power of the world.
To consolidate their position, they used all their might to cast the Demon Race into hell.
Since then, there have been those who write books and those who paint pictures, the Demon Race always portrayed as evil in any discourse.
Generations after generations, descendant after descendant.
This portrayal had been passed down like this.
Originally, the distinction between good and evil in this world was clear—good was good, and evil was evil.
But at some point, the distinction between good and evil had vanished, leaving only the divide between Immortals and Demons.
Demon equated to evil; regardless of his actions, anyone from the Demon Race was seen as malevolent.
Meanwhile, Immortals represented goodness, and when people faced hardship, they would pray for the heavens to send Immortals to their aid.
Branded as evil, shunned by the entire world, the Demon Race embarked on a redemption that spanned numerous epochs, even several eras.
Within the Demon Valley, the remnants of the Demon Race barely clung to survival in hiding.
Though they too were a vast kinship,
They simply could not stand against the whole world.
To preserve their race, to maintain the lineage, they had to suffer indignity and conceal themselves.
Either hiding deep in the mountains and forests or masquerading as other races, they lived cautiously in this world.
The Zen Nightmare Demon General was born as Duanmu Po.
He sat by the gently flowing stream in the valley, alone, staring at his own reflection in the water, lost in thought.
What future lay ahead for the Demon Race?
It was one thing for them to endure humiliation, but what of the future?
Their children, their descendants, were they truly fated to live like this forever?
As time passed, the truth might become irrevocably lost in the ancient River of Fate.
And no one would care about the truth anymore.
People would only know from the books of writers, from the paintings of artists, and from stories passed down through the ages.
They would be convinced that the Demon Race was a clan of wickedness.
Slaying monsters, vanquishing Demons – it was deemed everyone’s duty to execute such acts.
Just when Duanmu Po was shrouded in uncertainty about the future,
The river before him began to ripple.
Lifting his gaze, he saw a flat boat slowly drifting downstream.
A man sat in the boat.
His gaze was tranquil, his long hair moving without the wind, clad in a black robe.
A red cape fluttered gently at his back.
His features, sharp as if chiseled, portrayed resilience.
Dark brows, his gaze unfathomably deep, like an endless ocean, with no sight of shore.
At that moment, the boat came to a stop before him.
Only then did Duanmu Po realize, his expression instantly changing.
The Demon Race had hid, bearing humiliation, yet they had still been found.
He stood up, distancing himself, warily observing the newcomer.
"Are you from the Demon Race?" the man asked with a light smile.
Duanmu Po didn’t respond, but beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
This man’s unfathomable aura was on a completely different level.
"You need not fear, I am here to help you," the man continued, smiling.
"Help us with what?" Duanmu Po asked reflexively.
"To live openly and equally in this world," the man said, still smiling.
Duanmu Po stared at the man in a daze.
He couldn’t forget those words – to live as equals. How long had it been since he had last heard them?
From that day on, the man proved himself through his strength and leadership ability.
Thus, he became the Demon Lord, recognized by all the demons.
He led the Demon Race in a campaign spanning countless years.
The prejudice against the Demon Race was deeply ingrained in the hearts of the people.
So, the Demon Lord didn’t bother trying to change these perceptions or do so in vain.
He made his fist the truth, vowing to elevate the Demon Race to the pinnacle in this era that revered martial strength. 𝔫𝖔𝔳𝖕𝖚𝔟.𝔠𝔬𝖒
It didn’t matter if that meant becoming enemies with the entire world.
No one knew the man’s identity, his origins, or why he chose to help the Demon Race.
But since then, the Demon Race had seen hope.
No longer was it a futile struggle.
