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The Wind Demon was an existence that had once forced the Baoshu King to intervene personally; how could it truly be cowed by nothing more than a little stone statue?
Back in the Ancient and Middle Eras, the Wind Lion Lords were essentially boundary markers, telling the Wind Demon where it was supposed to tread lightly. After all, on the Ethereal Sect’s main peak, the spirit herb fields that sat right beside the great fissure were even more fragile than humans. The immortal sect had to lay down rules for the Wind Demon.
When the Wind Demon bumped into a Wind Lion Lord’s barrier, it would feel a kind of discomfort. That was why it disliked coming close. The barriers were somewhat like the electrified fences in protected reserves. The fences would not kill the lion, but it would hurt, and that pain was enough to keep it to its own territory.
However, “supposed to” was definitely not “must,” and in the same vein, “dislike” did not mean “could not.”
Now that the Ethereal Sect had vanished into history, it was far easier for the Wind Demon to force its way past a Wind Lion Lord’s restrictions than it had been in the past.
He Lingchuan crooked a finger at the Wind Demon.
The meaning of that gesture was unmistakable: come on, then.
So the Wind Demon charged.
Faced with the cramped space where He Lingchuan currently stood, it actually managed to compress all its wind energy into a wind ring less than two meters wide. Up in the higher...
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