Five hundred years pass in the blink of an eye, and Yan Zheng returns to that rainy night.
The frail boy is gone. The reborn demon lord walks among mortals.
“Heh heh heh... How did I come back?” Yan Zheng grips the blade thrusting toward him.
Blood runs down his arm, but the young man remains nonchalant.
“But what's with this countdown that keeps ticking before my eyes?”
