Chapter 454: Chapter 454

454: Chapter 450: Skewer Fragrance 454: Chapter 450: Skewer Fragrance Dark clouds enveloped the sky above, and in the dead of the silent moonlight, footsteps crushing dry leaves resonated from afar.

As the clouds tore open, a dismal and chilly moonlight washed over the Mortal World, casting the glow on a breathtakingly beautiful face, cold and laced with murderous intent.

She held a golden leaf-embossed umbrella in her hand, her dark robes fluttering amidst the withered petals, adorned with the luxurious and noble jewels draped around her.

Gold thread embroidered the hem of her robe with thousands of clouds, mountains, rivers, and moons, the entire figure wrapped in the pitch-black night, cold and detached, like a lonely soul wandering from the moonlight.

At that moment, the expression on Fei Yan, the Enchanting Demon’s face, truly resembled someone who had seen a ghost.

Her body rigidly froze; neither sitting nor standing felt right.

Her face which was previously flushed with lust, instantly turned ghostly pale.

She stammered, “Demon Lord, how have you come here?”

Behind the Female Demon Lord, the night wind howled eerily, and she emotionlessly looked at the male under Fei Yan, his clothes messily unable to cover his body.

The black aura around her was clearly visible, wildly and twisted like demons, looking extremely terrifying.

Her head tilted slightly, deep green hair cascading from her shoulders, each strand fluttering with a chilling aura.

The Demon Lord’s eyes were exceptionally void and hollow, her voice numb, “The man you are pressing beneath you is my mentor.

Little demon, why do you think I am here?”

The green lamp by her feet ignited with a light sound, burning fiercely like ghost fire ascending from Hell.

“Overestimating your capabilities, little demon, do you wish to be my mentor’s wife?” she said, her face already covered in a deathly pale cyan, more horrifying and startling than any fierce ghost from Hell.

Even Fang Geyu, who didn’t exist in this world, could feel a chill run down his spine.

And the Sword Master, hearing Arao’s voice, felt unimaginable shame.

Such an embarrassing and humiliating scene was clearly witnessed by his rebellious disciple; he wished he could just smash his head and die.

The young Enchanting Demon, who first left the mountain thinking of using this opportunity of the Immortal Lord’s ritual to grow up, was so shocked by the Demon Lord’s presence that she dared not breathe.

Her body shivered, tears choking out, and legs weak as she said, “No, no, no, not even with all the courage in the world would I dare to harbor such presumptuous thoughts…

I just thought Immortal Fu Ye was handsome and wanted a night of joy…”

The approaching figure suddenly halted, and the Female Demon Lord, eyes void and hollow, stared at her trembling legs, fearful she might just slip and sit down directly.

Her slightly tilted head became more severe; the ground beneath her cracked open, her expression indifferent but her mouth let out a cold chuckle, “He is my mentor, and you dare to think about him!”

As soon as these words fell, the ground shook violently, and several sharp spikes of earth thrust upwards, skewering Fei Yan’s body high into the air, hanging like a salted fish.

Pain wracked Fei Yan’s body, but she dared not make a sound, fearful of provoking her further.

She knew well the unpredictable moods of the Demon Lord, capricious and holding the power of life and death.

Who would have imagined, across thousands of mountains and rivers, in this secluded woodland far from Tianxi at Bai Tuo Mountain, they would encounter such a being?

And more importantly, she never thought that the Demon Lord, who harbored deep hatred sufficient to overthrow the heavens, and even if it was her mentor, would be nothing but enemies now, likely already dissolved in this great war of good vs.

Even if she took a little advantage, the mountain’s high, the Emperor’s far away; the Demon Lord surely wouldn’t care, right?

If the Demon Lord truly cared about her mentor, how could she allow those demons along the way to oppress and scheme against them?

Now without even drawing her weapon, wanting a genuine bond wasn’t too much, was it?

How could bringing forth such a terrifying being as the Demon Lord, skewering her without a second word, be imagined?

Was she sticking to his backside all the way?

Though filled with silent complaints, Fei Yan’s life hung by a thread, she didn’t dare breathe out loud, listening as those rustling footsteps sounded again.

Arao approached the flowerbed, waved her hand, and freed him from the thorns binding his wrists.

“Mentor, have you lost this bet?”

He was silent, his gaze buried in the flowers, unclear whether he felt anger or humiliation.

Seeing him in such dire straits stirred the last traces of compassion and sadness in her heart.

Arao slowly crouched beside him, gently unlatched the hairband between his lips, tenderly stroking the red welts on his wrist.

In a soft voice, she said, “Mentor, just yield once, give in this time, let it be your disciple’s win.

Afterwards, I will continue to respect and honor you just like before, alright?”

Trying not to startle him, she whispered, “Mentor, whatever I said that day about you serving me was said in anger, please don’t take it seriously…”

He certainly understood the implications of yielding and surrendering, to discard his own wife to beg for survival; he’d rather be harvested by the Enchanting Demon right there.

The Charming Poison that had infiltrated his body at that moment was destroying his body and will, a touch from the Enchanting Demon that actually eased it somewhat earlier.

Now that she had stopped, although he felt relieved at heart, the ardent desire within him blazed uncontrollably, as if countless ants were biting all over his body.

He feared succumbing to the fierce desires of the Charming Poison, afraid he couldn’t restrain himself from acting out of line.

This was the first time he witnessed how terrifying the poison of the Enchanting Demons could be, burning through one’s sanity.

He simply didn’t dare look into Arao’s eyes, nor did he have the courage to clumsily pick up his clothes and put them on before his disciple.

Arao watched his chest, sweating profusely, then quietly asked, “Is Mentor suffering?

Would you like your disciple to help…”

Her pale hand reached out unhesitatingly, as if it was the right thing to do.

But as soon as her fingertips touched his body, he reacted as if bitten by a snake, twisting his head sharply, his eyes glaring at her with wet red fierceness, “What do you need to help with?!

Where are you putting your hands?!”

Arao seemed startled by his fierce gaze, quickly retracting her hand.

But she quickly realized that their mentor-disciple bond had already changed beyond recognition; she had become the supreme ruler of all under heaven, so why fear him?

“The scent of the Enchanting Demon clings to Mentor’s body, let me clean it for you.”

She said earnestly, pulling out a soft cloth without giving him a chance to refuse, swiftly wiping his body and then coldly and ruthlessly igniting a flame, burning the cloth utterly away.