He was that roc?`

He was that roc? . . . 

Qin Wentian's cultivation had indeed surged, catapulting him to the mid-stage of the immortal king realm. However, he found himself at the very inception of this newfound power. 

During the span of seven transformative years within the Demongod Mountain, he had undergone a profound awakening of his bloodline potential. With this newfound mastery, he ventured to harness his bloodline power, crafting innovative innate techniques, and establishing new law domains. These advances in his capabilities were nothing short of monumental; the quantum leap in his abilities here far surpassed what he could have achieved through solitary cultivation elsewhere.

Qin Wentian had defied all expectations, achieving this staggering milestone in just seven short years. It was nothing short of a miraculous feat, and even he had never fathomed such rapid progress.

Yet, he didn't rest on his laurels. Qin Wentian continued his tireless cultivation, delving into the realms of ever-deeper insights, laying a solid foundation for the trials that lay ahead.

Within the Demongod Palace, the multitude of experts recognized the unprecedented opportunity that lay before them. Fully aware that this chance was a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, they had no intention of departing from these hallowed halls. The prospect of leaving only grew dimmer as time passed, yet the allure of immeasurable growth beckoned them forward.

In this extraordinary chamber, the experts cultivated in isolation, forging their own paths to strength. An unspoken agreement prevailed—none sought conflict with others. Each seized their moment to grow, fully aware that the Demongod Mountain's gates would never reopen.

Outside the palace, upon the ancient path leading to this sanctuary, countless explorers scoured the sprawling terrain, their hopes pinned to the prospect of discovering more treasures. The Desolate Mountain Range's denizens, the ferocious demonic beasts, showed no sign of departure. Humans flocked in droves, their numbers bolstered by formidable figures from the immortal realms, all drawn by the promise of unrivaled power.

Ten years into this transcendent odyssey, the Demongod Mountain's very foundations shook. A seismic rumbling erupted, drawing the gaze of countless onlookers who cast their eyes skyward. The heavens themselves began to shift, dimming the once radiant light.

The reverberations spawned a chain reaction, setting in motion an ominous transformation. The divine statue's glow dwindled, a gradual encroachment of darkness snuffing out its splendor. Slowly but surely, the divine luminance waned, restoring the statue to its humble origins as an ordinary carving.

The murals lining the palace walls too surrendered their vibrant vitality, reverting to mere static drawings devoid of life's essence. This surreal metamorphosis sent shockwaves through the assembled spectators.

"The Demongod Mountain..." Greater demons and immortal-level experts alike found their hearts quaking with fear. Their sacred sanctuary, it appeared, was on the precipice of vanishing into obscurity.

The extinguished light left the entire palace in eerie gloom, the once-majestic mountain losing its divine brilliance and reverting to a mere giant. Despite its continued imposing stature, it was no longer the fabled mountain of miracles.

Beyond the palace's threshold, no longer would majestic creatures emerge from the mural's depths. The few remaining figures had been cast in stone, petrified monuments to what once was, sending a collective shiver down the onlookers' spines. The mystique of this place had vanished.

Slowly but inexorably, the sprawling mountain began to corrode, darkness consuming all in its path. Inexorably, the mountain transformed, returning to its mundane origins as an ordinary range.

Hearts heavy with disappointment, countless demonic beasts gazed skyward, their dreams of a sacred haven slipping through their grasp. Frustration and sorrow swelled within their hearts, and many could only express their anguish through mournful howls, baying at the heavens. The Demongod Mountain, it seemed, had truly vanished.

The Demongod Mountain, their sacred bastion in the Desolate Mountain Range, teetered on the precipice of vanishing forever. The very legend that had gripped the region's collective imagination for generations now seemed destined to fade into oblivion.

"The Demongod Mountain is finally disappearing," sighed many human experts, relieved that this era of relentless demonic evolution would come to an end. Helpless spectators for a decade, they had watched the demons grow in strength while remaining powerless to halt their ascent. Each day, the demons' might had grown, sending shivers of unease throughout the human ranks.

Today marked a turning point. With the Demongod Mountain's dissolution, they prayed for a return to tranquility. Their hope, however, concealed a deeper fear—that the demons of the Desolate Mountain Range might harbor ambitions beyond their borders. This fragile calm was what the humans yearned for, even if they knew it was but a frail illusion.

Yet, the greater demons were unlikely to retreat to the Desolate Mountain Range meekly. A host of formidable demons, now evolved, were poised to unleash a storm of upheaval. This new order would brook no interference.

Within the Demongod Palace, the enigmatic Southern Phoenix Matriarch remained a serene observer of this transition. Her grace and beauty seemed divine, an ethereal being gracing the mortal realm. Though she stood in stoic silence, a melancholic sigh escaped her lips. The divine presence had dwindled, leaving her dispirited.

"Ah, what a missed opportunity," lamented Little Rascal with a forlorn tone. His dejected words earned a quizzical glance from Qin Wentian.

Qin Wentian couldn't help but roll his eyes. Little Rascal, in the time it took for the Demongod Mountain to vanish, had ascended to the mid-stage of the demon king realm. His rapid progression, though impressive, was accompanied by the irritating lament that he hadn't "cultivated enough." Qin Wentian found it absurd, considering Little Rascal's tendency to lounge lazily in Beiming Youhuang's embrace while absorbing the divine glow from the demon god statue.

Qin Wentian, however, understood the reasons behind Little Rascal's meteoric rise. With his bloodline potential fully awakened, Little Rascal had transformed into a genuine heaven-devouring beast. Being of the royal bloodline, he reaped unparalleled benefits far beyond any human. Qin Wentian, despite having a supreme-graded demon bloodline, was still fundamentally human. He had merely gained control over his bloodline, never experiencing the full-blooded evolution that Little Rascal had.

Qin Wentian pondered his own heritage; the race behind his bloodline remained an enigma. Possessing the Burning Rebellion innate ability was a testament to the exceptional nature of his lineage. He had the unique capacity to mimic the innate abilities of other demons, but his exposure to the Demongod Mountain's power had yet to evolve his bloodline.

As for Beiming Youhuang, she calmly watched the unfolding events. Her stoic demeanor belied her inner turmoil. Little Rascal's antics seemed to amuse her, and she tenderly stroked his fur.

"Big brother Qin," came a voice from Purgatory. She stood before Qin Wentian, now in her human form. Her fiery figure was draped in alluring red, her aura even more mesmerizing than before. She possessed an irresistible demonic charm.

"Your cultivation has stabilized at the late-phase of the initial-stage, Purgatory. Impressive," Qin Wentian complimented with a warm smile.

"I'm not as fast as you, big brother Qin," she replied, her charming smile exuding an enchanting allure. Purgatory remained blissfully unaware of her bewitching effect on others.

"Little Purgatory, there's still some distance between us," interjected Little Rascal, earning him a playful eye-roll from Qin Wentian.

Little Rascal pouted defiantly. "What's the big deal? I'll leave then."

Before anyone could react, Little Rascal darted into Beiming Youhuang's embrace, nestling snugly between her ample assets. He cast a smug, triumphant look back at Qin Wentian.

"What's the point of showing off to your own demonic beast companions?" Beiming Youhuang scolded with a hint of amusement, her gaze shifting to Qin Wentian. "Men and their pride."

Qin Wentian found himself utterly speechless. He watched as Little Rascal flaunted his victory, gesturing with his paws in an exaggerated display of triumph.

"Shall we leave this place?" The Southern Phoenix Matriarch's voice, like a gentle spring breeze, dispersed the levity. She approached the group, offering a nod of acknowledgment.

"Of course," Qin Wentian agreed, and with that, they made their way to the exit. An air of resignation hung about them, but they knew it was futile to linger any longer in this vanishing realm.

Stepping out of the palace, they joined other onlookers who had also witnessed the transformation of the Demongod Mountain. The Immortal Emperor of the Darknorth, Beiming Youhuang, the Southern Phoenix Clan, the Evergreen Immortal Emperor, and Bai Wuya converged outside, forming a formidable assembly of power and wisdom.

Amidst the post-Demongod Palace buzz, a procession of respected elders joined the ranks, their eyes filled with reverence and awe. They represented the very sects that had produced the supreme geniuses granted entry into the Demongod Palace.

"Lords," came the voices of Qi Yu and the Battle Saint Tribe members, showing their deep respect.

The solemnity was disrupted by a sharp, icy voice that cut through the air. The Skymist Immortal Empire and the Paragon Sword Sect sent their own envoys, headed by none other than Shangguang Jianyi, the illustrious supreme genius of the Paragon Sword Sect. Their faces were masks of discontent, and a storm brewed in their eyes. How had Qin Wentian managed what Shangguang Jianyi had failed to accomplish?

"How did you enter?" demanded Pei Qing, his face contorted in disbelief. He had been stationed here, persistently trying to break through the siege, and yet he had no recollection of Qin Wentian's presence.

"It was him—the roc," a voice from the crowd revealed, directing a sea of eyes toward Qin Wentian. So, this seemingly ordinary roc was the key?

"Roc? But isn't he Qin Wentian from the eastern regions? The Evergreen Immortal Empire's son-in-law," murmured another bystander.

"This fellow, initially just an initial-stage immortal king, transformed into a roc and joined forces with two other demonic beasts, penetrating the Demongod Palace. Truly despicable and shameless," scoffed a disapproving voice from the crowd.

Yet, Qin Wentian wore a confident smile, his gaze unwavering. He remained indifferent to the gossip swirling around him. What did it matter what others said? He had achieved his objective within the Demongod Palace. He had gained substantial power, ascending to the mid-stage of the immortal king realm and establishing two potent law domains. The means to his entry was irrelevant now.

Strength alone fueled his pursuit, not the opinions of onlookers.

"You're that vile beast?" a mid-stage immortal king from the Sacred Sun Sect seethed, anger radiating in sunlit waves. Qin Wentian had deceived them, taunting their incompetence and declaring them "trash."

"He likely concealed his true strength as an initial-stage immortal king to slaughter your people," a greater demon chimed in, adding to the fiery accusations.

The enraged Sacred Sun Sect expert's sun flames blazed brighter. "You killed my senior brother?"

"The Sacred Sun Sect's saint child met his end? Can you all stomach this humiliation?" taunted an envoy from the Skymist Immortal Empire, fanning the flames of discord.

"Qin Wentian!" thundered multiple voices, accompanied by the appearance of numerous white tigers, their feral gazes locked onto him. "Are you the one who feasted on the flesh of white tigers in the sacred academy?"