The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6205

At the edge of the Demon Marches, heavy demonic fog hung all year round.

The light between heaven and earth bled with a dark, stifling red, and even the howling wind carried a biting demonic chill as it tore across jagged, misshapen rocks and dragged out a sound like ghosts crying in the dark.

Deep in that barren, dead-silent land, a towering palace stood on the summit of the surrounding mountains.

Its whole body had been cast from pitch-black demonic stone, vast and crushing just from a glance.

Across the roof, countless reliefs of snarling Demon Dragons had been carved in savage detail.

Every line gave off a vicious presence.

This was the Demon Dragon Hall, the place in the Demon Marches that made every major power think twice.

Inside the great hall, the space felt empty and severe.

The floor had been laid with smooth black jade, and it reflected the wavering dark-red candlelight burning through the hall.

As the flames jumped, the shadows stretched long and then snapped short, making the whole place feel even colder and more sinister.

At the seat of honor sat a tall, upright figure.

It was Darian, the Chieftain of the Demon Dragon Lineage.

He wore a dark-gold robe embroidered with dragon patterns.

Along the edges, dense and complicated demonic markings ran in layers, while a faint Demon Dragon pressure leaked from his body without ever fully flaring.

His face usually stayed steady and cold.

But now the weight on it showed plain enough, and his brows had locked so tightly together that a deep crease had formed between them.

The fingers of his right hand keep tapping the armrest beside him without meaning to, the rhythm quick and tight.

That armrest has been forged from Ten-Thousand-Year Profound Ice demonic iron, and every tap sends out a faint "tap, tap" that rings with startling clarity through the silent great hall, laying bare the unrest he still cannot press down.

Ever since Senior Skylar had made his move and cut down the Grand Elder of the Celestial Palace along with several of its core elders in a single sword strike, a shadow had stayed over Darian the whole time.

It pressed over him like a mountain hanging above his head, invisible but constant, leaving no room to breathe.

He knew the Celestial Palace's foundation too well, and he knew exactly what kind of man Godric was.

The Celestial Palace had stood in the Fourteenth Firmament for tens of thousands of years, and it had always been overbearing, ruthless, and quick to settle every score.

Now it had lost a pillar like the Grand Elder.

That was humiliation the Celestial Palace could hardly bear, and Darian did not doubt for even a moment that it would never let the matter drop.

He had originally stayed on guard day and night, fully prepared for the Celestial Palace to come pouring in with everything it had.

He had even ordered every warrior of the Demon Dragon Lineage into battle readiness, opened every defensive formation around the Demon Dragon Hall, and had all stockpiled demon crystal and war gear moved into place.

He had been waiting for Godric to lead his forces here so they could fight to the death.

But what Darian had never expected was this.

Day after day passed, and Godric still did not move.

Not only had he failed to immediately lead an army against the Demon Dragon Hall, there was no movement at all.

That unnatural restraint only drove the unease in Darian deeper, and underneath it all, one thought kept hardening—Godric had to be brewing something even darker.

Darian was still turning Godric's silence over and over in his head when a rush of footsteps suddenly broke out beyond the great hall.

A panicked shout came with them and tore straight through the dead stillness inside.

"Report—!"

A Demon Dragon scout in black scout armor burst in despite the guards trying to stop him outside.

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