Max's eyes lingered on the gathered demons. He could not help but wonder if their true purpose in this war was really just a drop of blood. To ignite such a catastrophic conflict across worlds merely for a single drop sounded excessive, almost absurd, yet deep down he understood it could very well be the truth.
"Aren't there any geniuses of the human race who have stepped into the Divine Rank?" A mocking voice suddenly rang out from among the demonic host.
The one who spoke stepped forward, his appearance deceptively youthful. His face bore the sharpness of a young man in his prime, yet Max knew at a glance that this was nothing but the mask of a creature far older. By mortal reckoning, this demon should have lived for thousands of years, perhaps even longer.
Max's pupils contracted as he recognized him. He recalled seeing this figure among the thousand demons released when the Bright Buddha Palace's seal was torn apart.
