Chapter 1180

Ye Yu’s form seemed enveloped in mist, making it impossible to discern any details.

In the cultivation world, when one cannot perceive another’s level, there are only two possibilities.

The first is that the other wields an artifact concealing their cultivation.

The second is that their cultivation vastly surpasses your own.

Lu Qingdao was certain it was the second.

As a peak Demon Lord–realm expert, his experiences were extensive, even intersecting with Demon Emperor–realm figures.

He considered himself well traveled, yet he had never imagined such a terrifying existence as Ye Yu in the demon world.

At a mere scrutinizing glance from Lu Qingdao, the projection of the Demon God behind Ye Yu stirred.

The Demon God shifted its gaze, meeting Lu Qingdao’s eyes—deep, frigid, and imbued with a soul-seizing force.

In that instant, Lu Qingdao realized this projection was no mere illusion and subconsciously began to deduce its nature.

Before he could finish his reasoning, a crushing backlash struck his spirit.

His face drained of color as he fought to suppress the surging demonic blood, barely preventing himself from vomiting.

That was all he could do.

Now, Lu Qingdao could neither draw on his power nor move a finger.

Such ferocious retribution was entirely unexpected.

He glanced at Ye Yu’s indifferent expression—Ye Yu had not even looked directly at him—and felt utter despair.

A mere backlash had grievously wounded a peak Demon Lord–realm expert, stripping him of all combat ability.

In Ye Yu’s eyes, he was nothing at all.

“Grandfather, Father, I may not fulfill your hopes,” Lu Qingdao thought, despondent.

Unable to contain the raging demonic blood, he spat a mouthful of blood and collapsed heavily to the ground.

“I... have lost.”

Before his consciousness faded, he managed to utter those three words.

The Old Lu family’s ancestral creed ran in his mind: win with glory; if you lose, bite the bullet and admit it.

True to form, even as he lay defeated, Lu Qingdao’s feeble voice carried across the hall, audible to all powerful demons present.

They turned to see the once-arrogant would-be Demon Lord now gravely wounded and unconscious.

In that moment, everyone thought two words: “Holy shit!”

The phrase “power unfathomable” became concrete in an instant.

Within mere breaths of his arrival, Ye Yu had, unnoticed, defeated a peak Demon Lord–realm rival.

Truly terrifying.

Instantly, the crimson numbers above every demon’s head began to multiply wildly.

Some even knelt, shamelessly chanting, “Welcome, Lord Demon Lord of Kongming Prefecture!”

Many scorned such behavior.

“How can they kneel so smoothly, so quickly?”

“He hasn’t even spoken—just a spectacle and they fawn already? You really want the throne?”

“Shameless!”

“We’ll kneel too!”

In an instant, the kneeling demons rose in unison: “Welcome, Lord Demon Lord of Kongming Prefecture!”

Such power rendered the half-hour contest irrelevant.

Who could still resist?

Who else?

(Voice cracks edition!)

Staring at the scene below, Ye Yu was stunned.

What the hell?

What on earth is happening?

And that bastard lying there—was he faking it?

I never even touched you!

You can’t lie down so shamelessly!

Honestly, Ye Yu had planned this trip as a simple formality: show up, unleash flashy effects to pose as a mighty figure, then leave.

As for the Demon Lord seat—he couldn’t care less.

Even if he did, what use was it?

After such time exploring, Ye Yu grasped the true purpose of the “appear-powerful” spectacle.

It was all for show—flashy effects to intimidate.

If it worked, everyone rejoiced, and he harvested submission points.

If it failed, any high-level demon could swipe him out on the spot.

Walking a high-wire without a net was no exaggeration.

One misstep, and he would plummet into an abyss.

He had to be extremely cautious.

The Demon Lord seat of Kongming Prefecture was a hot potato—what if some fool still rushed to snatch it?

Time to go—quickly.

He had already harvested nearly all the submission points he could; lingering further served no purpose.

With that thought, Ye Yu swung his sleeve to depart.

But at that moment, eight peak Demon Lord–realm experts suddenly appeared.

Two of them, of all people, blocked his path back.

What rotten luck!

Go around them? Impossible.

His spectacle was in full display; anyone would assume he was invincible.

Bypassing them would expose his bluff.

But if he forced his way through, those two wouldn’t yield—they’d strike first.

And if they did, a single clash would kill him.

What was he to do?

Unbeknownst to Ye Yu, those two experts were equally terrified.

They had been teleported here, unaware of the chaotic # Nоvеlight # scene awaiting them.

Under Ye Yu’s icy gaze, brothers Pang Longhai and Pang Longshan trembled.

“Big brother, he’s staring at us—what should we do?”

“What can we do? If he doesn’t move, neither do we. Everything waits for the Demon Lord himself!”

“All right... this spectacle terrifies me too!”

“Of course—who wouldn’t be scared? My legs are numb!”

“We must hold on!”

The hall froze.

No one dared speak.

Every demon held their breath, awaiting what would happen next.

They wondered: why had so many powerful beings arrived? Were they all here to vie for the Demon Lord seat?