The Demon Continent was a primordial, desolate floating landmass. It was all rugged mountains and wild ridges, overrun with grass and trees. Beasts roamed, gnawing on flesh and drinking blood, vying for their next meal in a land where cities were about as common as water in the driest deserts.1

Deep abysses and rivers housed countless demon caves, where groups of mighty demons ruled the roost. The Great Merciful Tribulation had swept through, turning the eastern part of Demon Continent into a veritable inferno. And right smack in the center of this hellish place, where the void was frail and the universe twisted like a pretzel, one could just make out the flicker of sword light.4

Right then, a tiny vortex of light started shaking like a leaf in a storm.0

BOOM! Out of this shimmering swirl fell a pitch-black snake corpse, landing with a thud that could wake the dead. Its eyes rolled back, its body crisscrossed with sword wounds.0

Then, quick as a flash, a sword light zipped by, and a figure in white stepped out from the vortex, landing on this vast, dark land. The man was middle-aged, dressed in flowing white robes, exuding an air that was out of this world. He stood above the landscape, hands clasped behind his back, as if he owned the place.0

Beneath his feet...2