He was currently absorbing the ambient, dark Qi of the wasteland, condensing it into his Demonic Core to prepare for the inevitable war against the orthodox sects.
But the Supreme Demon Lord's legendary concentration was compromised.
Xuanye rested his chin on his knuckles, his dark eyes staring blankly across the desolate wastes.
He was thinking of a teenager with a spatula.
He had only encountered the cook briefly, during a clandestine scouting mission near the Celestial Sword Sect.
He had watched the boy from afar, sensing the bizarre, highly condensed Qi within the chef's meridians.
At first, Xuanye had been amused.
An orthodox disciple who was cultivated by cooking?
It was a pathetic, laughable Dao.
But then, he had tasted the residual energy.
He had sensed the overwhelming vitality radiating from the boy.
And something dark and incredibly dangerous had awakened within the Demon Lord's soul.
Demons did not care about the moral posturing of the orthodox world.
