"Just like me, they were already doomed to die. Twenty thousand years ago, we should have fallen on the battlefield, but circumstances forced us to keep living."
The Woodcutter Sage set his axe aside and sighed, "Furylo, do you realize? Back in the Pioneer Emperor’s era, a little demon god like you would’ve already been sent to the God-Slaying Platform and executed. Things aren’t what they used to be. I admire you—I know your skills and your methods. You never called for the Heavenly Court’s help, attacking High-Emperor Heaven on your own. That tells me you refuse to live under someone else’s roof. You have your own ambition and wild heart. You want to use High-Emperor Heaven as a springboard—to leap into the Pioneer Emperor’s Heavenly Court. Your ambition is enormous."
Furylo smiled faintly. "A man in this world—if he has no dreams, how is he any different from a dried-up fish?"
The Woodcutter Sage shook his head. "Have you considered—if you seize the Pioneer Emperor’s Heavenly Court, won’t you be wiped out? When the birds are gone, the bow is put away; when the hare is dead, the hound is cooked. Surely you understand that. The moment you break into the Great Ruins and destroy Everpeace, that’s the day you and your people die. Extinction is right at your doorstep. You call yourself Furylo, the demon clan’s great strategist—don’t tell me you can’t see it coming?"
Furylo’s neck twisted, his right face coming forward. He said slowly, "Saints are masters of persuasion. You act like you care about me, but it’s all psychological warfare. I understand your logic, but I also know I must find a way out for my people. Whether the Heavenly Court wipes us out or not—who knows? Worst case, I’ll bow down like a dog. Surely the Heavenly Court won’t kill a dog, will they?"
His left face laughed. "A man in this world must know when to bend and when to stand tall. Brother Sage, if you insist on threatening me with Luofu Heaven, I won’t need to kill you—someone else surely will. Brother Sage, what harm is there in bowing your head for a moment?"
The Woodcutter Sage shook his head. "If I wanted to be a dog, I could have done it twenty thousand years ago. If I can stand and live, I’d rather stand."
Furylo’s eyes flashed. "But most people, once they’re dead, still end up crawling—like dead dogs."
The Woodcutter Sage laughed. "I’m not afraid of being smashed to bits—I’d rather die shattered than crawl to my death. Before Quinn Shepherd and his group arrived, you asked me to hand over some of Everpeace’s territory to your demon clan. Now that Quinn’s here, I can give you my answer."
His face suddenly turned cold. "As long as we’re alive, not an inch of the Pioneer Emperor’s land will be given up!"
"If your leg steps in, I’ll chop it off. If your head pokes in, I’ll chop it off! If your demon clan dares enter Everpeace, I’ll wipe you out!"
He said coldly, "Don’t even think about taking the Pioneer Emperor’s land!"
Furylo picked up his brush and swiftly wrote his vow, flicking his wrist so the paper floated across to the Woodcutter Sage. The Woodcutter Sage wrote his own vow and exchanged papers with him.
Each man weighed the other’s vow, searching for loopholes. Then they edited and swapped papers again, carefully reviewing and revising anything they couldn’t accept.
After three rounds of this, they finally settled on the final versions of their vows.
Both men stood and began their oaths—Furylo in demon speech, the Woodcutter Sage in god-speech. The two languages rang out together, each carrying its own mysteries and hidden power, even clashing in the air!
Quinn Shepherd understood both languages perfectly—whether god-speech or demon speech, he caught every word, unconsciously drawn in by the ceremony.
Suddenly, space trembled. The mountain-sized altar beneath their feet shook violently, and everyone on it scrambled to steady themselves. Below the altar, Granny Sue and the Black Tiger God faced off against two other demon gods. The ground beneath them rippled and shifted, forcing all four to brace themselves, lest the other side seize an opening.
Granny Sue staggered back and forth, as if her cultivation wasn’t high enough. She retreated several steps, and one of her embroidered shoes slipped off without her noticing. Forced to balance, she planted her bare foot and steadied herself.
The demon god facing her brightened, and before Granny Sue could react, he snatched up the embroidered shoe. Shoe in hand, the demon god stared at Granny Sue’s delicate, pale foot, grinning as he brought the shoe to his nose and sniffed it.
Granny Sue feigned annoyance, reaching out with a half-smile, half-scowl. "Give me back my shoe!"
The demon god burst out laughing, tucking the shoe into his robe. "Little beauty, you tug at my heart. Your shoe—I’ll be keeping it."
Granny Sue grew angry, yanked off her other shoe, and tossed it at him. "You’re supposed to be a mighty demon god, above it all—how can you be so shameless?"
The demon god caught the second embroidered shoe, still staring at her pair of small, pale feet. He grinned, "Perfect! Now I’ve got the pair! Such fair, dainty feet—you’re a real beauty. I have a few human concubines, but if you’ll have me, I’ll make you my main wife. Just say yes, and I’ll go home and eat my old nagging wife!"
Granny Sue giggled. "If you eat your old wife, I’ll have to worry you’ll eat me too, once I get old! Besides, you couldn’t wear my tiny shoes anyway—they’re yours now."
The Black Tiger God frowned deeply, thinking, "Who is this woman? She talks in circles and flirts with a demon god—she’s just as unreliable as Quinn!"
Thick darkness shrouded the surroundings. Suddenly, a flicker of firelight appeared, and a pair of giant, pointed horns slowly rose from the shadows beneath the altar.
All around the altar, it was pitch black. Those horns twisted and curled, towering higher than clouds, far above the altar itself.
The Black Tiger God was terrified—his hammers slipped from his hands and clattered to the ground. He hurried to pick them up, eyes fixed on the horns rising from the darkness.
After a moment, Tu Bo’s shadowy form finally revealed its head; both pairs of horns had already reached the height of the planets beyond the sky.
Tu Bo’s tiger-like face remained hidden in the darkness, his eyes burning like flames, casting flickering light and shadow over his features and the towering altar.
Tu Bo waited silently for their vows.
This was only Tu Bo’s projection, not his true self—just his power cast into this world to witness the oath between two great powers.
Tu Bo could never descend in person—his true body is so vast that, if he came, this fragile world would collapse under the weight.
Quinn Shepherd grew excited and waved vigorously at Tu Bo’s phantom.
Tu Bo’s expression remained solemn; he ignored Quinn entirely.
Quinn kept waving, shouting, "Me! It’s me! Tu Bo, we’ve met before! I’m Fenix Greenwood Keane—remember, you sealed me!"
Tu Bo continued to ignore him.
Quinn kept waving excitedly.
Tu Bo’s eye twitched. "Show some dignity! Don’t talk to me—I’m handling official business."
Zechariah Lee and Young Master Cyrus Qi exchanged glances, a chill running through their hearts.
Furylo and the Woodcutter Sage finished their vows and sealed Tu Bo’s Pact. That towering head of Tu Bo glanced at Quinn, who waited eagerly to speak to him.
Cyrus Qi hesitated, stepped forward, and bowed to Tu Bo.
Tu Bo ignored him, turning to Quinn. "Don’t cause trouble."
With that, Tu Bo’s form slowly sank back into the darkness, gradually vanishing and leaving Quinn and Cyrus Qi standing alone on the altar.
When the horns finally sank underground, the darkness faded, and light returned to the world.
The Woodcutter Sage stared at Quinn; Furylo stared at Quinn; Zechariah Lee and Cyrus Qi also fixed their eyes on him. Tu Bo had always been the embodiment of solemnity and death—never smiling, always terrifying when appearing to witness oaths. His power pressed down on everyone like a suffocating shadow.
But this time, Tu Bo’s phantom not only spoke, but seemed to know Quinn well—making everyone wonder if Tu Bo could truly remain impartial when witnessing oaths.
Tu Bo is chosen as oath-witness precisely because he has no personal bias. If he ever did, it would be a terrifying thing.
Furylo smiled slyly. "I never realized you and Tu Bo were such good friends, Quinn."
Quinn squeezed his eyes shut—all three at once—refusing to look at him. He snorted, "If we were really friends, he wouldn’t have sealed me."
Furylo relaxed, suddenly recalling Quinn’s jade pendant. A chill ran through him: "That pendant is Tu Bo’s seal? That day, when I suppressed the seal, I must have released that demon king."
The realization dawned on him—his worries vanished. "If Tu Bo sealed it himself, there’s no way it’ll escape. That means I can focus on dealing with Quinn. But now the kid won’t even look at me."
Just then, a scream echoed from below the altar. Everyone rushed to the edge and looked down in alarm.
One of Furylo’s demon gods was rolling on the ground clutching his legs in agony. On his feet were tiny embroidered shoes—just three inches long—stuffed with needles that pierced his huge feet, leaving them bloody.
His body swelled and shrank, trying to shake off the shoes, but they only shrank with him, never loosening. Both big toes were shattered, the pain indescribable.
Nearby, the Black Tiger God and another demon god stared at Granny Sue in horror, each edging away, afraid to get close.
"All the bones in your feet are broken."
Granny Sue smiled sweetly, her voice gentle and soft. "You’d better cut them off now. If those needles reach your heart or your brain, it’ll be too late."
The demon god trembled in pain, gritting his teeth and rasping, "You tricked me into wearing those tiny shoes..."
Granny Sue feigned surprise. "You wanted to wear them yourself—when did I ever trick you?"
On the altar, Furylo raised an eyebrow and sneered at the Woodcutter Sage. "Another one of your disciples? Just like your brother—always playing dirty!"
The Woodcutter Sage was also surprised and shook his head. "Not my disciple. But she’s as clever as I am."
Furylo snorted, his voice echoing down to the altar’s base. "Mutu Luo, your magic isn’t precise enough to hold back her needles. The longer you wait, the greater the danger. Cut your feet off."
The demon god struggled desperately to suppress the needles flowing from the shoes into his bloodstream. The needles were so fine as to be invisible, but they moved like tiny swords, burrowing through his veins. He tried to block them with his own powers, but inside his own body, he couldn’t muster enough strength to stop them.
Hearing Furylo’s words, the demon god let out a fierce cry, tears streaming from his eyes as he swung his blade and severed both of his lower legs.
From the wounds where his legs had been cut off, countless fine silver needles poured out like water.
"Heavenly Artisans’ treasure-forging technique!"
Furylo recognized the Heavenly Artisans’ technique from the silver needles. He was startled, suddenly recalling the old blacksmith with Quinn that day. Granny Sue’s needles must have come from that blacksmith!
"A blacksmith, an embroiderer, a painter, a quack... What kind of people does Quinn keep around him?" Furylo couldn’t help but feel a headache coming on.