Deville stared at the god-given perfect facial features for a long time, and said, "There is no room for negotiation?"

"No."

The magic vein is like the air you breathe every day. When it exists, no demon will pay attention to it. Many demons even think that the magic vein is just a legend.

But when the demon vein collapsed, like a lingering giant beast gradually dying, every demon in the entire demon world could clearly feel its painful breathing.

In the past tens of thousands of years, the demonic veins have nurtured demons, and the demons feed back the demonic veins after death. The cycle goes on and on, and the cycle of reincarnation is endless. Now the system of this cycle has been broken——

The demons who died on the battlefield have nowhere to return, they will only slowly evaporate and dissipate, so instead of letting them disappear in vain, it is better to become a weapon of the same race.

But this method is only temporary, the demon veins cannot nourish new demons, and the demon world will only become weaker and weaker.

Agreeing to negotiate is tantamount to imposing a death sentence on the Demon Realm. It won't be long before the God Realm can easily subvert the Demon Realm without any effort.

Therefore, either both sides will suffer, or the demon world will be destroyed vigorously like this. No demon wants to make the third choice.

"..."

I refused very simply, and there was no possibility of turning around.

Deville also seemed to know that this would be the result, and his thin lips moved and then pressed together. Without further words, a dark purple magic book appeared in front of him.

The book cover entangled in chains was facing me, and the pages flipped and stopped at a certain page in one-third of the book.

When he blinked, there were waves of light flowing in his eyes. After hesitating, he raised his hand and pressed on the page, and said solemnly: "I must stop you."

It is not uncommon for this kind of dialogue to happen between countless demon kings and seraphs.

I said casually, "Then try it."

The opponents I want to challenge will always come to me in various rough ways. More than 100 years ago, I was supposed to face Deville in the Ruins of the Holy Spirit.

In a sense, I'm pretty lucky.

What Deville pulled out from the taboo book was a sword. The blade was dazzlingly bright, with a holy aura floating on it. The hilt was golden, and the ruby ​​inlaid on it was ominous. A weapon included in the Taboo Book.

The Heavenly Father is probably very reassured of this Beloved, that no matter how outlandish the magic and weapons he uses, his divinity remains the same.

With a swipe, the long sword drew a bright arc of light in mid-air, and the demonic energy floating on the battlefield was wiped away in the trajectory of the sword.

I took the lead, the broad knife and the long sword collided in mid-air, sparks and clangs burst out, the shock expanded from the point where the swords met, and exploded with the momentum of thunder. In the blink of an eye, the fine steel hundreds of meters away The mast broke like a nod.

In one round, I found that Deville's sword was alive.

The strange gemstone on the hilt of the sword is like a mouth, sucking Deville's blood, and a heart seems to grow out of the sword body, and the sacred breath beats with the pulse, and it grows stronger and stronger.

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