Xu Zimo looked up at the scene within the gate.
At that mont, over a hundred thousand people were kneeling and bowing to him, a vast black mass of figures exuding boundless demonic energy.
His own Hell-Suppressing Demon Physique grew even more violent as the demonic aura roared.
"All of you, rise," Xu Zimo raised his hand and spoke.
With a rumbling sound, countless figures stood up, eyes burning as they looked at Xu Zimo.
He was their lord.
"I ca here to learn a few things," Xu Zimo said.
"If the Lord has any questions, please feel free to ask," Infernal Archon Nightmare quickly replied.
"What was the Ancient Demon Race like in the past, or rather, in the previous epochs?" Xu Zimo asked.
"I'm very curious about my own past. There are always people and fragnts of mory that appear in my mind."
"That epoch is very distant. If the Lord is not in a hurry, we can take our ti explaining," said Infernal Archon Nightmare.
"I have plenty of ti. This ti, I ca to the Land of Exile for two reasons. First, to et all of you. Second, to uncover my past life," Xu Zimo nodded.
"Please look, my Lord," Infernal Archon Nightmare waved his right hand.
A surge of powerful demonic energy spread from his palm.
The energy enveloped the entire Primordial Demon Cave, and scenes began to erge from within it.
……
At the beginning of the Blessed Epoch, people lived in peace.
There were no wars, no conflicts.
Everyone lived in harmony.
Later, the path of cultivation flourished across the world, and all beings began to pursue the path to immortality.
The world holds billions of living creatures, and the phrase "three thousand races" is rely symbolic.
In truth, there are far more races than just three thousand.
The Ancient Demon Race was one of them.
Humans are greedy, but what defines a human?
Joy, anger, sorrow, contemplation, grief, fear, and surprise, that is being human.
Arrogance, jealousy, greed, lust, those are also human traits.
People have two sides, there is good, and there is evil.
Where there are people, there is conflict.
As is well known, there were ten great celestial sects in the world.
They sought to rule over everything. But people longed for freedom, who would willingly be ruled?
Who is more noble than whom?
Thus, the ten celestial sects invented the concept of evil.
They sought to beco the embodint of righteousness, using the excuse of protecting all beings as a reason to dominate the world.
They forced everyone to beco dependent on them.
And elevated themselves above all others.
The burden of “evil” was then placed upon the Ancient Demon Race.
No one knew why the ten celestial sects chose the Ancient Demon Race.
Perhaps it was random, perhaps it was fate.
Perhaps the Ancient Demon Race was simply weak and easy to bully.
Regardless, from that day forward, the Ancient Demon Race was branded with evil.
It beca an indelible mark and label.
Through the propaganda of the ten sects, the Ancient Demon Race was painted as a race bent on destroying the world. A race that deserved to be killed by all.
anwhile, the ten sects cast themselves as heroes, slayers of monsters and protectors of the people.
Naturally, they gained control of the world's narrative.
To solidify their dominance, they used every ans to cast the Ancient Demon Race into hell.
From then on, people wrote books and painted pictures where the Ancient Demon Race was always the villain.
Generation after generation, this was passed down.
In the beginning, good and evil were clearly defined, good was good, evil was evil.
But no one knew when the shift occurred, when morality no longer mattered, only the distinction between immortals and demons.
Demons beca evil. No matter what they did, as long as they were demons, they were labeled evil.
Immortals beca good. In tis of trouble, people would pray for the immortals to co save them.
When the Ancient Demon Race was condemned and spat upon by the entire world, they began a struggle for redemption that lasted for countless years, across multiple eras.
……
Inside Demon Valley, the people of the Ancient Demon Race hid and survived.
Though they were a powerful race, they still could not fight against the whole world.
To preserve their lineage, they endured humiliation and hid away.
So retreated into remote mountains, so disguised themselves as other races, carefully surviving in the world.
Infernal Archon Nightmare’s real na was Duanmu Po.
He sat in Demon Valley, before a slowly flowing stream, watching his reflection in the water, lost in thought.
Where was the Ancient Demon Race’s path forward?
He and the others could bear the sha and suffering, but what about the future?
What about their children, their descendants, were they to live like this forever?
With ti, the truth might truly be lost in the ancient river of fate.
No one would care what really happened.
People would only believe what was written in books, drawn in paintings, and passed down in stories.
They would believe the Ancient Demon Race was evil.
That slaying demons was the righteous thing to do.
Just as Duanmu Po was lost in despair about the future,
Ripples suddenly appeared in the stream before him.
He looked up and saw a small boat drifting slowly down the river.
A man sat on the boat.
His gaze was calm, long hair flowing without wind, wearing a black robe.
A red cloak billowed lightly behind him.
His face was sharp and defined, full of resolve.
Thick eyebrows, deep and boundless eyes, like an endless ocean.
The boat ca to a stop before him.
Only then did Duanmu Po react. His expression changed dramatically.
The Ancient Demon Race had already gone into hiding, enduring disgrace, and yet soone had still found them.
He stood up and backed away cautiously, eyes wary of the man.
"Are you one of the Ancient Demon Race?" the man asked with a faint smile.
Duanmu Po didn’t answer, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.
This man gave off an unfathomable aura, he was not soone he could contend with.
"You don’t need to be afraid. I’m here to help you," the man continued to smile.
"Help us with what?" Duanmu Po asked instinctively.
"To let you live upright and dignified lives, equal with others in this world," the man smiled.
……
Duanmu Po stared at the man, stunned.
He could never forget that day. To live equally, how long had it been since he’d heard those words?
From that day on, the man proved himself through strength and leadership.
He beca the Infernal Lord recognized by all demons.
He led the Ancient Demon Race into countless battles across the years.
The prejudice against demons was deeply rooted in the hearts of the world.
So the Infernal Lord didn’t waste ti trying to change minds.
He used fists as truth. In an era where strength reigned, he vowed to make the Ancient Demon Race stand above all.
Even if that ant becoming the enemy of the world, it didn’t matter.
No one knew the man’s identity, where he ca from, or why he chose to help the Ancient Demon Race.
Only that from that mont on, the Ancient Demon Race saw hope.
No longer just struggling in vain.
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