Clown and co.
  • Browse
  • Popcorn
  • Discord
  • MORE
    • Adventure
    • Romance
    • Fantasy
    • Historical Fiction
    • Mystery
Sign in Sign up
Prev
Next
Sign in Sign up
  • Browse
  • Popcorn
  • Discord

Great Demon - Chapter 68

  1. Home
  2. Great Demon
  3. Chapter 68 - You’ll Give It to Me?
Prev
Next
Schedule: Thursday & Sunday (UTC+8) around 20.00-22.00. Check out my other baihes! [1] [2] and this one has the same author as Great Demon [3]. I'm struggling to make ends meet and your support will mean a lot to me. If not materially, then perhaps by giving good reviews and ratings on NU! Price is now 2 coins cheaper on all novels starting after a certain chapter respectively!

As the massive dragon body coiled towards her, the fierce air currents caused the waters of the marsh to ripple violently. Above, the vast sea roared as if a giant whirlpool was churning up from the depths, making the entire ocean seethe.

 

Zhuyou’s expression was grave, fearing that even a moment’s pause would allow the dragon to catch up.

 

The Cold Eye from a thousand years ago was no different from the outside world of Turbid Mirror. It was still filled with fireflies, and the withered trees in the marsh were half-submerged, their crooked forms resembling ghostly figures. The vines creeping up the trunks and hanging down from the branches looked like boneless hands.

 

The surroundings were pitch black, with fireflies clinging close to the ground, flickering slowly like countless ghostly eyes.

 

Zhuyou darted towards the center of the marsh and, as expected, spotted the spiritual herb. However, the herb from a thousand years ago had not yet grown a single petal, and its core was nowhere to be seen. It looked almost indistinguishable from the surrounding weeds, save for the distinctive red edge on its leaves.

 

She intended to bend down and pluck it from the marsh, but behind her, the Obsidian Dragon let out a furious roar. At the sound of the dragon’s cry, all the greenery in the marsh was flattened by the powerful gust, nearly uprooted.

 

Zhuyou twisted her wrist, summoning a wisp of spiritual energy. Just as she was about to touch the delicate herb, the Obsidian Dragon closed in, its terrifyingly sharp horns almost grazing her slender back.

 

A chill ran down her spine. The fleeting nature of human life was indeed like dew on a flower, vanishing in an instant. The dragon she had once toyed with a hundred years ago was no longer weak; it had tirelessly chased her across half the Cold Eye.

 

She stepped onto a partially submerged log, using it to propel herself several feet into the air. She thought to herself, Forget it, I can do without this herb.

 

The Obsidian Dragon let out a long roar, its back and head nearly touching the barrier above. Its four claws were razor-sharp, and as it approached the barrier, the scales on its back shimmered with a dazzling, colorful light.

 

But Zhuyou did not look back, so she did not see the beauty of the dragon’s scales. Her heart was uneasy as she squinted into the distance, wondering if the Cold Eye had an end.

 

She hoped it wouldn’t suddenly come to an end, leaving her with nowhere else to run.

 

It had been a long time since she had been chased like this. Even two hundred years ago, when she fell from the Immortal Execution Platform into devilhood, no one had pursued her. The birds seemed stunned, and even the heavenly soldiers stood frozen, as if they had lost their souls. It was rare for a goddess to fall into devilhood, especially one as uniquely talented and beautiful as a phoenix.

 

Zhuyou couldn’t see the pity in their eyes, and if she had, it would have only annoyed her more.

 

Now, being chased by the Obsidian Dragon, she felt as if she was making up for all the things she had missed two hundred years ago.

 

If the Obsidian Dragon wanted to catch someone, how could it fail? The dragon could traverse tens of thousands of miles in an instant, descend to the human world with a tilt of its body, and ascend to the heavens with a lift of its head. As a Divine Venerable, it moved freely through the Three Realms, unhindered and unstoppable.

 

Zhuyou lowered her gaze in thought. Before Changying arrived, who had governed this realm? This unfathomable sea, with the Cold Eye buried thousands of feet below—who could have guarded it properly? It must have been the Dragon Clan.

 

For hundreds, even thousands of years, no one had entered this realm. No one had heard of it, no one knew of it. What was so special about this Cold Eye that kept others out?

 

She looked up, remembering how she had been swept into this realm and how, when she tried to break through the barrier, she had been caught off guard by a surge of dragon energy. It dawned on her that this Cold Eye was governed by the Dragon Clan, and dragon energy was the key.

 

Dragon energy?

 

Zhuyou placed her hand over her heart, where the drop of heart’s blood she had taken from Changying itched faintly. She wondered what the dragon was thinking, feeling as if she was being watched intently, unable to escape.

 

Behind her, the Obsidian Dragon’s eyes widened, its gaping maw revealing sharp teeth. The marsh below, which had just recovered, was nearly torn apart again by the dragon’s dragging tail.

 

Zhuyou clutched her chest, wondering if she could use the faint dragon energy in the heart’s blood to open the barrier.

 

As she considered this, she began to draw out the thin dragon energy from the cold drop of blood, gathering it at her fingertips. Just as she was about to use it, another dragon roar sounded behind her.

 

The Obsidian Dragon exhaled, sending Zhuyou’s silver hair flying. The wisp of dragon energy at her fingertips wavered, nearly scattered by the dragon’s breath.

 

Zhuyou quickly closed her hand, clutching the wisp of dragon energy like a fragile thread.

 

She turned sharply, her vision filled with the massive dragon. It was said that the Obsidian Dragon, a star of destruction, could swallow the sky, play with the sun and moon, and devour the rivers and seas of the Three Realms.

 

And she, in the eyes of the Obsidian Dragon, was barely enough to fill the gaps between its teeth.

 

Yet, though Changying was chasing her, it never exerted its full strength to catch her, as if waiting for her to stop on her own.

 

But how could Zhuyou possibly let the dragon catch her? She thought the dragon, having been bored in the heavens for a hundred years, had gone mad, expecting her to walk into its trap.

 

Seeing Zhuyou repeatedly evade her, Changying felt a growing frustration. She looked up at the invisible barrier above, wondering what Jingyi was doing now. She let out a roar, her golden eyes now bloodshot, her breath becoming more erratic, her mind increasingly unsettled.

 

She sensed that a strand of her consciousness had returned to her body, indicating that something had happened to Jingyi. But seeing that no one of note was around Jingyi, she grew even more anxious.

 

“What are you plotting?” Zhuyou frowned.

 

“Something that worries me,” the Obsidian Dragon murmured, its voice carrying a feminine softness.

 

“Something that worries a Divine Venerable of the heavens?” Zhuyou remained wary, scoffing.

 

“Guess what it is,” Changying said.

 

“Do you really think we’re so connected that I can read your mind?” Zhuyou raised an eyebrow, exhaling slowly. “You overestimate me.”

 

Changying withdrew her gaze, her serpentine body coiling in the air. A hundred years ago, she had split off a strand of her consciousness to keep Jingyi under her watchful eye, then closed herself off in seclusion. Now, a century later, she had thought the bird could never escape her grasp, but this unexpected turn of events had occurred.

 

Her eyes darkened, still unwilling to reveal everything about Jingyi. If Zhuyou knew, it would be easier for her to extract the Devil Lord’s hun soul. She needed to leave Turbid Mirror quickly, Changying thought, to see what Jingyi was up to in the East Sea.

 

The Obsidian Dragon paused for only a moment before surging forward like a rainbow spanning the sky. She had made up her mind. Originally, she hadn’t wanted to force Zhuyou to hand over the soul, but now, with the situation urgent, she couldn’t afford to hesitate.

 

Seeing the Obsidian Dragon pause for a moment behind her, Zhuyou quickly seized the opportunity to dart forward, riding the wind. But before she could get far, she felt an icy chill at her back, followed by a fierce, claw-like gust of wind that lashed at her.

 

Her neck stiffened, and she abruptly shifted into her true form—a majestic black phoenix with wings that blotted out the sky. Her long tail feathers trailed down toward the marsh below, stirring the waters with every movement.

 

Yet, this phoenix was no ordinary bird. As she soared upward, her long tail feathers swayed gracefully in the wind, untouched by the filth below.

 

The true form of this fallen phoenix was unlike the divine birds of the heavens, whose feathers shimmered with a radiant, multicolored glow. Her body was entirely black, save for her crimson eyes and the faint, fiery embers clinging to the tips of her feathers. She was drenched in devilish energy, as dark and heavy as ink spilled from a pot.

 

The phoenix let out a piercing cry, swiftly escaping the reach of the dragon’s claws. The three feathers atop her head swayed gently, while her long tail feathers fluttered like a shooting star streaking across the sky.

 

But this was no ordinary shooting star—it was a dark, blazing comet, its body wreathed in flames.

 

The Obsidian Dragon pursued relentlessly, and the phoenix refused to yield. The confined space of the Cold Eye was soon filled with swirling winds and mist, as the two titans clashed.

 

It seemed the Cold Eye was far too small for such a chase between the Obsidian Dragon and the phoenix.

 

“If you insist on chasing me, why not open the Cold Eye?” Zhuyou called out.

 

“No,” Changying replied curtly. She had no intention of opening the Cold Eye. If she did, Zhuyou would slip through the barrier and escape her grasp entirely. The dragon’s massive jaws opened, her teeth grazing the phoenix’s swaying tail feathers.

 

The moment her tail was touched, Zhuyou let out a sharp cry, her long tail lashing out like a whip toward the dragon’s head.

 

She clutched the Devil Lord’s soul tightly in her talons and suddenly turned, spewing a burst of phoenix fire at the pursuing Obsidian Dragon.

 

The flames erupted with a deafening roar, rolling through the air like a blazing comet, as bright and scorching as the sun.

 

The Obsidian Dragon narrowed her eyes, caught off guard as the flames singed her horns. She let out another earth-shaking roar, causing the entire Cold Eye to tremble.

 

But the phoenix fire was no ordinary flame—it could not be extinguished by wind. If left unchecked, it would reduce her to a pile of shattered scales.

 

The fire crawled down her horns, clinging to her black scales, nearly reaching her eyes.

 

Suddenly, frost formed over the flames, freezing them into glittering crystals that shattered into dust before they could even touch the ground.

 

After channeling her spiritual energy, the burns on her horns and scales healed rapidly, leaving no trace of injury.

 

Changying surged forward again, her massive body coiling around the phoenix in an instant.

 

The phoenix let out a piercing cry, her voice as commanding as that of a celestial dragon. Her wings were pinned tightly to her sides, unable to spread, leaving her to writhe and struggle in vain.

 

But the Obsidian Dragon only coiled tighter, wrapping around her completely, layer upon layer.

 

Zhuyou had known she couldn’t escape the dragon’s grasp, but she hadn’t expected that even in her true form, she would be caught so quickly. She struggled weakly, her strength nearly spent, and pecked at the dragon’s scales. Yet, despite her fierce appearance, her heart ached, and her pecks were as feeble as a bird nibbling at grains.

 

Her long beak struck Changying’s black scales, and she even nudged the dragon with her head, her three crown feathers now disheveled and pitiful.

 

Changying felt no pain from the pecks—if anything, they felt like gentle scratches. She let out a low rumble, her dragon’s roar soft and almost affectionate. She thought of how, just the night before, Zhuyou had been so concerned about the injuries to her horns, yet now she was pecking at her. The dragon lowered her massive head, nuzzling gently against the phoenix’s neck feathers.

 

Though she was a celestial dragon capable of destroying heavens and earth, at this moment, she was careful and gentle, as if tamed, her movements light and tender against Zhuyou’s neck.

 

Zhuyou’s heart raced, the dragon’s blood within her surging uncontrollably. She tilted her head back, her beak pointing skyward, and let out a sharp cry.

 

Changying, hearing her cry, lost all restraint. Though her nuzzling was gentle, her coils grew tighter and tighter.

 

In this secluded realm beneath the sea, the dragon and phoenix seemed to intertwine like lovers.

 

Zhuyou had no choice but to shift back into her human form, nearly slipping through the gaps in the dragon’s coils. But just as she began to fall, the dragon tightened her grip.

 

The dragon had her wrapped so tightly that not even a sliver of space remained.

 

Her arms braced against the dragon’s body, and as she returned to human form, her eyes were red-rimmed, her lips pressed tightly together. She felt a gentle nudge against the top of her head and looked up to see the dragon still nuzzling her.

 

Her feet dangled in the air, leaving her no choice but to cling to the dragon’s coiled body. As her hands moved, they brushed against several scales that had been torn loose, the flesh beneath damp and warm with blood.

 

She hadn’t pecked hard enough to cause such damage—it must have happened during the dragon’s reckless pursuit.

 

The once neatly overlapping scales were now either torn or completely shattered, rough and jagged to the touch.

 

Zhuyou couldn’t understand how the dragon could endure such pain so effortlessly, even more so than herself. Yesterday, she had borne the agony of her soul being torn apart without a word, and today, despite her injuries, she showed no sign of discomfort. It was as if the dragon was born without fear of pain or death.

 

Such a dragon was truly worthy of being an ancient Slayer God.

 

Zhuyou’s waist and abdomen ached from the tight coils, and as the dragon ascended, pressing her back against the barrier above, the marsh grew farther and farther away. Her stomach churned, and her arms nearly gave out, leaving her pale limbs limp against the dragon’s scales.

 

The dragon’s body around her waist felt as though it might crush her. She tilted her head back, gasping for breath, while the dragon continued to nuzzle her, tousling her silver hair until it was a tangled mess. Her head swayed with the dragon’s movements, leaving her dizzy and disoriented.

 

She tried to turn away, intending to scold the dragon, but all that escaped her lips was a faint, trembling moan, her breath shaky and fragile, like a thread on the verge of snapping.

 

“Chang… ying,” she finally managed to whisper, her voice strained, as if she had melted into the dragon’s embrace.

 

Sweat dripped from her temples, trailing down her neck and disappearing into her collar. Her arms rested weakly on the dragon’s back, and with a tilt of her head, she leaned against the massive dragon’s head, gasping for breath.

 

But Changying’s grip showed no sign of loosening. Zhuyou’s ribs ached to the point of numbness, and she weakly murmured, “I… have no strength left.”

 

“Changying? Changying?” Her eyes were rimmed with red, half-lidded and glistening with unshed tears, giving her an innocent, almost pitiful appearance.

 

Changying looked down at her, her expression unreadable.

 

“Why must you do this?” Zhuyou asked weakly. But as soon as the words left her lips, she realized that this was a question Changying could just as easily ask her.

 

Why must she do this?

 

But there was no turning back for her now. Even if Changying didn’t kill her, the Heavenly Dao would no longer tolerate her existence. If she wanted to break through her limits and reach the pinnacle, her phoenix bloodline would inevitably draw down the heavenly thunder and earthly fire. Before she had fallen into devilhood, the heavenly thunder and earthly fire couldn’t harm her, but now… she was a devil.

 

To endure that tribulation now would be a near-certain death.

 

Changying didn’t respond, her golden eyes fixed on Zhuyou, cold and unyielding, though her heart raced uncontrollably. She felt as though she were savoring something sweet, her entire being suffused with a strange, intoxicating warmth, so much so that she could barely hear Zhuyou’s words.

 

Zhuyou tilted her head back, meeting Changying’s icy gaze. When she saw the massive dragon head suddenly dip toward her again, she instinctively tried to turn away.

 

But the dragon’s head was already too close, its enormous form filling her vision entirely. She couldn’t help but close her eyes, her silver hair swaying as the dragon nuzzled her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her lips trembling slightly as she pressed them together.

 

“What is yours, I will take for you. Don’t rush,” the Obsidian Dragon suddenly spoke.

 

Changying’s voice was calm and detached, as if she were discussing something trivial.

 

Zhuyou let out a bitter laugh. She wasn’t rushing—she just wanted to survive.

“There’s nothing in this world that should be mine,” she said slowly, her voice still weak.

 

What others had taken from her belonged to them now. Until she could seize what she desired with her own hands, none of it was truly hers.

 

Had she not learned this in the two hundred years since she had fallen into devilhood?

 

“If I say it’s yours, then it’s yours,” Changying insisted, her tone stubborn. Even in her childlike form, she had always been rigid and unyielding, and now, fully restored, that stubbornness had only intensified.

 

Zhuyou’s arms were weak, but her fingers remained tightly clenched around the wisp of the Devil Lord’s soul. If she let go, she feared it might slip away and find a way to reincarnate.

 

Devils were cunning by nature, and the Devil Lord was no exception.

 

The dragon’s head continued to nuzzle her, its movements gentle but persistent. Strands of her silver hair brushed against her cheeks, and she closed her eyes, her eyelids fluttering faintly, lost in thought.

 

Changying loved seeing her like this—so docile, so vulnerable, as if she were offering herself up to be devoured.

 

Suddenly, Zhuyou opened her eyes, tilting her head slightly. The phoenix markings at the corners of her eyes came into view, striking and beautiful.

 

Seeing her struggle to catch her breath, Changying loosened her grip slightly. “I don’t know why you’re so determined to awaken the Devil Lord, but if he rises, it will bring nothing but disaster,” she said.

 

Zhuyou remained silent for a long time, her expression blank, as if her soul had left her body. Her silver hair clung to her damp temples. Finally, she spoke, her words slow and deliberate. “Alright… if you say so, I suppose I should believe you.”

 

Changying suddenly shifted back into her human form. As Zhuyou began to fall, Changying quickly wrapped her arms around her, catching her effortlessly.

 

Zhuyou was caught off guard, her arms hanging limply at her sides, her back arching slightly as her pupils contracted.

 

Just before they hit the ground, an invisible force of spiritual energy cushioned their fall, gently lowering them onto the grass.

 

Changying withdrew her hands, her gaze fixed intently on the devil beneath her.

 

Zhuyou turned her head away, her eyes downcast, as if she had truly melted into a pool of spring water, softening Changying’s heart. “Let me go,” she said slowly. “Fine, I’ll give up this wisp of soul.”

 

Changying bent one knee, leaning closer. “Are you sure?”

 

The fireflies danced around Zhuyou’s face, their faint light casting a pale glow on her features. Her hair, spread out around her, shimmered like moonlight.

 

Changying’s left hand rested lightly on Zhuyou’s waist, while her right hand slowly closed around her wrist.

 

Zhuyou didn’t resist, her eyes lowered as she murmured, “You should return to where we were before. We’ve lingered here too long. What if we can’t get out?”

 

Changying’s fingers traced the slight protrusion of bone on Zhuyou’s wrist, considering whether her words were genuine or not. After a moment, she said quietly, “Alright.”

 

Suddenly, the ground shook violently, as if the heavens and earth were convulsing. Not only did the Cold Eye tremble, but the sea above it surged with towering waves.

 

In the blink of an eye, they were back in their original location, surrounded by toppled houses, towering mountains, a river flowing backward, and a waterfall that seemed to connect with the moon.

 

Everything was disorienting, chaotic, and unsettling.

 

Zhuyou’s hand, still clutching the wisp of soul, remained tightly closed, while Changying’s grip on her wrist didn’t loosen. Zhuyou silently calculated—five days were almost up. By then, Hanzhu and Luo Qing would surely pull her out of the Turbid Mirror. As long as she didn’t let go, the soul couldn’t escape.

 

But as the saying goes, there’s always a higher mountain.

 

Changying suddenly leaned down, her torso pressing against Zhuyou’s, her face—stunning yet expressionless—coming dangerously close.

 

Zhuyou froze for a moment, feeling the softness of Changying’s body against hers. With just a slight movement of her eyes, she could see the delicate curve of Changying’s nose.

 

As their chests pressed together, the exchanged drops of heart’s blood within them stirred, sending a sharp itch through Zhuyou’s chest.

 

Thump. She thought she heard the erratic beat of her own heart.

 

In that moment, her soul felt as though it were being caressed, suffused with a sudden surge of spiritual energy that left her momentarily dazed.

 

And in that moment of distraction, her clenched hand was pried open, Changying’s fingers interlacing with hers.

Ko-fi

Storyteller Yoji's Words

Schedule: Thursday & Sunday (UTC+8) around 20.00-22.00. Check out my other baihes! [1] [2] and this one has the same author as Great Demon [3]. I'm struggling to make ends meet and your support will mean a lot to me. If not materially, then perhaps by giving good reviews and ratings on NU! Price is now 2 coins cheaper on all novels starting aft

Prev
Next

Comments for "Chapter 68"

Login
Please login to comment
0 Comments
Oldest
Newest
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
Hate that cliffhanger, don’t you?
Grab some Popcorn and keep watching your series! This is entirely optional and a great way to show support for your favorite Clowns. All locked shows will still be unlocked for free according to the schedule set by the respective Clowns.
Announcement
If you don't receive your Popcorn immediately after making a purchase, please open a ticket on our Discord server. To help expedite the process, kindly attach proof of your PayPal transaction, along with your username on our site and the name registered to your PayPal account.
  • About Us?
  • Join Us
  • Privacy Policy
  • Terms of Use

© Clown & co. 2025. All rights reserved

Sign in

Lost your password?

← Back to Clown and co.

Sign Up

Register For This Site.

Log in | Lost your password?

← Back to Clown and co.

Lost your password?

Please enter your username or email address. You will receive a link to create a new password via email.

← Back to Clown and co.

Premium Chapter

You are required to login first

wpDiscuz