continent on a black-scaled wyvern, gifted by the Demon King himself. The beast's wings carved through clouds like blades, each beat sending thunderous shockwaves through the air. Below, the ever-shifting terrain of the demon realm sprawled—a harsh land of molten rivers, crimson forests, and jagged mountains spewing steam. He gripped the wyvern's reins tighter as the chilling winds of altitude tugged at his cloak.
He remembered the Demon King's final words before departure:
"You may go now, but next time, bring my daughter. I want to meet her with my own eyes."
Chen Yu had nodded, concealing the unease buried deep within. The journey ahead was perilous—not just physically, but politically. The demon continent had been brutal, but strangely, it was the beast continent that filled him with more apprehension. Unlike demons, who respected strength above all, beasts were unpredictable—emotional, tribal, and often guided by ancient grudges.
And yet, this was a risk he had to take.
