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With such power, such majesty, the involuntary trembling of the “Tiger Soul Blade” in his hand, and the dark energy that had just been inexplicably drained away—how could Chen Xuanfeng not realize what he was facing?

“Barto… Archdemon King Barto… You actually managed to break free!”

*Heroic Werewolf Scroll* Chapter 82: Soul Towards Light, Body May Burn

The moment the black shadow of the soul broke free, the sky outside Saint Spirit Mountain Sky City darkened abruptly. The once-brilliant sunlight turned pale and dim, while the Divine Light Power encircling the Sky City rapidly diminished, throwing the battling Holy Temple forces into chaos.

But the greater change lay within the Sky City itself.

Unlike the previous violent tremors that had caused it to sink sharply, the entire city had at least remained stable then. Now, however, the massive city, only two hundred meters above the ground, tilted amidst chaotic energy fluctuations, gradually losing its buoyancy before plummeting faster and faster.

How long would it take to hit the ground from less than two hundred meters?

To some, it felt fleeting; to others, agonizingly slow. Yet regardless of perception, within mere seconds, a deafening impact echoed as one corner of the Sky City collided with the slopes of Saint Spirit Mountain below, while the other half defiantly hung in the air.

“All warriors, heed my command—yak tribe covers the rear, eagle tribe provides cover, the rest retreat in order—!”

The moment the Sky City touched the ground, the trapped beastmen warriors found their escape. Several commanders barked orders, swiftly disengaging from the chaotic human forces and gathering at the city's edge. They rolled down the dozens-of-meters-high slope formed by the impact, retreating with remarkable speed. Meanwhile, the humans, stunned by the fall of their holy city and the disruption of divine power, failed to mount an effective response.

The Five-Layered Catacombs

The tremors from the Sky City’s collision reverberated through the catacombs, yet no one dared move—not Chen Xuanfeng, not Pope Paul VIII, not even the proudest of them all, Orc King Samanda.

For looming above them was the terror of a Demon King who had once nearly destroyed the world.

Even if this Demon King was now but a soul.

The only thing that moved was the black soul core of the Archdemon King, floating ominously in the air.

“Hiss… BOOM—!”

Suddenly, a crimson blaze erupted from the depths of the abyssal dark soul, forming a massive flaming eye at the core of the black orb. Though the eye was merely a flame-formed semblance, the overwhelming pressure radiating from its gaze made the assembled masters feel as if they were truly being scrutinized—an oppressive will surpassing the combined might of a hundred dragons.

The first to be scrutinized was the Pope.

It had to be admitted—this foremost champion of light possessed a regenerative ability rivaling that of the "immortal" Hydra among super-magical beasts. Pope Paul VIII had been on the brink of death: his spine shattered, torso split open, three limbs severed, and his head mangled by the thorned crown. Yet in less than half a minute, bolstered by two divine artifacts, his wounds had already sealed. Though he hadn’t yet risen, it was only a matter of time.

The flaming eye of the black soul fixed first upon the Pope—or rather, upon the two divine artifacts. Though three millennia ago, when Barto had rampaged across the world, humanity had yet to enter the stage of continental conquest, leaving no grudge between them, the sacred light power within the artifacts was inherently antithetical to Barto’s dark soul. Thus, he took notice.

Yet after a single glance, the fiery eye shifted away. This being’s soul was nearly depleted, beneath his notice—even with divine artifacts.

The second to be scrutinized was Orc King Samanda.

The soul core could distinctly sense that the immense power it had encountered upon breaking free originated from this one-armed lion beastman before it.

*...The Emperor Martial Overlord Art again... But stronger... Several times stronger than those so-called 'Emperor Martial' lion sword emperors who besieged me back then... Is this the progress the beastmen have made in three thousand years?... Still... Even now, he lacks the power to threaten my foundation...*

And so, the flaming eye turned once more, settling upon the third master present.

Chen Xuanfeng.

Though the silver-haired werewolf lord possessed astonishing combat prowess, his pure energy reserves paled in comparison to the other two kings. Yet the eye lingered on him the longest.

Because in his hand was a heavy blade now gleaming like yellow crystal—a blade imbued with a presence Barto knew all too well.

The demonic blade “Tiger Soul” had once devoured Barto’s personal sword, *Soul Devourer*, absorbing the dark energy crystals refined by Barto and even a fragment of his soul consciousness hidden within, birthing a sword spirit. Now, this familiar resonance was unmistakable to the Archdemon King. From the moment Barto broke free, the Tiger Soul Blade had trembled incessantly, purple light rippling from its surface as if drawn toward him.

It was Barto’s summons—calling back his consciousness and power. Reclaiming them might allow him to resurrect instantly.

But Lei Men, the previous master of *Soul Devourer*, who had pondered this very scenario for a century, would never have left such a vulnerability unaddressed.

“Hmph, thinking you can reclaim what Tiger Soul has devoured—do you truly believe yourself a god?” Chen Xuanfeng taunted, tightening his grip. Surging Nine Yin True Energy flooded into the Tiger Soul Blade, while the Platinum Lightning of the Sword of Divine Punishment in his right hand flashed, severing the connection between the blade and Barto’s soul core. Instantly, the Tiger Soul Blade stilled, immune to the Archdemon King’s summons.