The fleet glided slowly across the sky, thunderous war drums drowning out everything below. Skyward Legionnaires drew their bows in wave after wave, unleashing volleys.
Arrows whistled as they tore through the air, plunging into the inferno below and striking the camp, sending up showers of sparks.
A demon soldier, pierced by several arrows, struggled and collapsed, only to be buried beneath the fallen watchtower, vanishing completely into the roaring flames.
Moments ago, they were an army; now, only a surging mob fleeing in panic remained, impossible for the demon generals to control.
A gust of wind swept by, carrying sparks and suffocating heat.
Countless dead and wounded, cries of agony everywhere—burning, collapse, and relentless waves of arrows had utterly shattered the army's morale.
They fled in blind panic, trampling one another in their desperation.
Everything was crumbling before the eyes of the Six Demon Kings.
King Bullhorn stared blankly at the devastation, utterly stunned.
"Let’s go." King Roc moved close and whispered, "No one can be saved now. Let’s leave together—while we still can."
"Go?" King Bullhorn gave a bitter laugh. "Where to?"
"The world is vast. There must be somewhere we can hide."
A wild wind swept past, snatching the burning banner marked with the demon character from the command tent, sending it tumbling into the flames, where it blackened and turned to ash.
The clouds parted overhead, revealing the endless ranks of the Heavenly Fleet. Countless Skyward Legionnaires beat their wings as they left the decks, forming tight aerial formations. Their weapons gleamed, freshly polished.
"Heavenly Fleet! By order of Marshal Silver—encircle and destroy! Mortal demons, surrender at once!"
"Defend the Mandate! Uphold the Celestial Order! Defend the Mandate! Uphold the Celestial Order!"
The valley echoed with earth-shaking shouts. King Bullhorn slowly gripped his iron cudgel, trembling.
His bull-like eyes were shot with blood.
Tilting his head up, he locked eyes with General Ward, who stood at the prow of the flagship, sword in hand.
Neither showed any emotion.
"Heavenly Fleet! One day, I’ll make you pay for everything you’ve done tonight!" King Bullhorn gritted his teeth, then turned and barked softly to the other five demon kings, "Retreat!"
"I’ll take the vanguard," King Roc said, brandishing his halberd and spreading his wings as he shot eastward.
"I’ll cover the flank." King Macaque vanished in a gust of wind.
"I’ll guard the rear." King Gloomape’s form grew translucent, then faded away entirely.
King Bullhorn thrust out his arm and flung it forcefully, sending burning tents—and several fleeing demons who couldn’t escape in time—flying aside. In an instant, a path was cleared straight to the camp’s edge.
King Liontusk and Lord Jiao followed close behind, charging straight through.
Under their blades, cudgels, and claws, even demons blocking the way were obliterated.
Bursting out of the camp, they raced into the valley, covering ten miles before the jade slip at their waists suddenly chimed.
"What’s wrong?"
"Ambush!" King Roc’s voice came through the jade slip, tinged with panic.
"What?"
The three demon kings halted at once.
Moments later, King Roc hurried back, an arrow embedded in his arm.
The arrow’s fletching glowed—it was no ordinary weapon. Likely fired by one of the Polar Nine.
Was the ambush set in advance?
King Bullhorn’s heart sank.
"This way!"
The four demon kings raced off in another direction.
Soon, King Macaque appeared before them.
"No good—there’s an ambush that way too."
"Back the way we came!" King Bullhorn spun around in haste, only to see King Gloomape appear before him.
"The pursuers are almost here!"
"Pursuers..." King Bullhorn trembled slightly.
He looked up—the fleet, vast enough to blot out the sky, was slowly sailing toward them.
The Waveblade Banner flapped in the wind.
All around, Skyward Legionnaires and celestial officers gathered behind the mountains.
A familiar figure stood atop the cliff, sword sheath thudding against the rock. He looked down coldly at the Six Demon Kings assembled below.
Banners streamed behind him.
"Marshal Silver!" King Bullhorn gritted his teeth, pronouncing his nemesis’s name one word at a time.
"I've waited here for you all a long time." With a metallic ring, he drew his sword, pointed it at King Bullhorn, and said coldly, "Surrender, and you will be spared death!"
The Six Demon Kings all stared wide-eyed.
"Surrender, and you will be spared death! Surrender, and you will be spared death! Surrender, and you will be spared death!" Skyward Legionnaires appeared from every corner, hammering their shields and shouting.
Overhead, the fleet swept past, spraying strands of spirit energy that formed a net.
This was prepared specifically for the Six Demon Kings—the Heavenly Net.
"Damn it, if only General Lee were in charge of Western Ox!" King Roc spat fiercely, clutching his wounded arm.
King Liontusk, silent until now, wiped his blood-soaked greatsword on his sleeve and gripped it tightly, breathing heavily and showing no emotion.
"Anyone who wants to surrender, go ahead and surrender." King Bullhorn panted, speaking flatly.
"Surrender?" King Macaque let out a mocking laugh. "Get dragged back, crippled, and turned into monkey-brain stew? No thanks."
With that, he crouched, ready to fight.
"So this is how it ends—in death after all," Lord Jiao was nearly in tears.