Ethereal World: Vicious Cannon Fodder's Immortality Road - Chapter 823

Chapter 823: The First Demon Emperor [The Ancient Throne Hall] (1)
By relying on their survival instincts and their awareness of sounds, they managed to fight back and dodge the danger. Although their bodies were now covered in blood and wounds, their lives were safe.

No one knew how long it had been until they all fell down inside an ancient hall.

With a thud, their bodies hit the floor uncontrollably.

“Ouch! What a damn place!” Xiao Meng’s sharp voice echoed through the chamber. Because of her disrespectful behavior, she was soon suppressed by the suffocating aura.

Her body was pressed tightly against the floor, and she couldn’t even move.

Everyone’s pupils condensed slightly at the sight in front of them. As they struggled to stand up, they realized they had fallen into the Ancient Throne Hall, where a suffocating aura of malevolence and decay weighed heavily upon their souls.

Huge, cracked obsidian pillars stood like broken fangs, covered in glowing red runes. The walls were charred and covered in creeping black veins, pulsating with dark magic.

The floor was shattered, with cracks oozing black ichor that whispered and moved on its own.

Occasionally, ghostly figures flickered in and out, repeating their last moments in torment.

Floating debris and rifts in reality appeared randomly, revealing glimpses of a terrifying abyss.

The Ancient Throne Hall was not merely abandoned; it was cursed beyond redemption—a place where time and existence seemed to have begun to collapse.

To stand before the Abyssal Throne was to face the weight of untold centuries of suffering, ambition, and ultimate downfall. Those who entered may never leave—at least, not as they once were.

At the far end sat the Abyssal Throne, a terrifying seat made of bone, obsidian, and unrecognizable materials. It glowed faintly with a sinister light, as if something terrible had once occupied it.

Just as Shenlian Yingyue was pondering what had happened here in the past, she fell into unfamiliar memories. Everyone found themselves in this strange situation, witnessing something horrifying yet memorable.

They saw betrayals by loved ones, hands stained with the lives of countless beings, hellish nightmares of centuries spent in loneliness, and the peak of existence where everything felt the same—from fleeting satisfaction to boredom, ultimately leading to nothingness.

To whom did these memories belong? They recalled experiences from birth to suffering and struggle, then to love and betrayal, culminating in the rise of a supreme lord.

Who stood before them? The figure’s face remained hidden, shrouded in darkness. An oppressive aura weighed heavily upon them.

Shenlian Yingyue and the others fought to maintain consciousness as memories began to unravel before her.

Faintly, she discerned that this silhouette belonged to a woman—a strikingly tall woman.

Once, ‘she’ was a fragile, nameless soul, born into a ruthless realm where only strength prevailed. Lacking power meant waiting to be crushed, like refuse underfoot.

Day after day, survival turned into a brutal contest, surrounded by merciless demons who viewed weakness as an invitation to death, tormenting and abusing the feeble.

‘She’ endured violence from her own kin, betrayed by those she held dear, left for dead time and time again. Yet, each fall forged her into something more resilient.

Navigating the depths of despair, ‘she’ bore unending suffering akin to a torturous cycle, drawing lessons from each scar and wound along the way. Rising from innocence to cunning ambition, ‘she’ consumed her adversaries, appropriating their strength, steadily ascending the pinnacle of power.

In her deepest despair, ‘she’ discovered love—a rare beacon within the pervasive darkness. For the first time, warmth, trust, and hope enveloped her. Yet, doubt gnawed at her; would this affection end in betrayal once more?

Yearning for love, she found herself atop the world, surveying countless beings below, but the view felt lonely, tedious, and barren.

Yet love in the Demon Realm bore peril. Despite foreseeing the potential for heartbreak, ‘she’ longed to embrace this fleeting joy.

‘She’ believed every being deserved to be loved, treasured, and embraced, regardless of their past.

However, reality struck her with brutal clarity. Her beloved, once a source of hope, turned against her, plunging a dagger into her back to seize the power she had cultivated. He abandoned her to die, reveling as he walked away, leaving her to fade.

Alone, clutching her newborn—the very embodiment of her vulnerability—she cradled him in bloodied hands. Anguish twisted within her; she wished to harbor resentment towards the child, reminders of her own folly, yet she couldn’t.

Who claimed demons were devoid of compassion? She embraced her baby, closed her eyes, and choked down her bitterness.

The man who had usurped her power ascended to dominion over the world, reveling in destruction and compelling all to bow before him.

From the very beginning, he approached her with a facade of warmth and tenderness, illuminating her life amidst the shadows, offering her sweet drops of water in a world filled with bitterness—only to seize her supreme power and ascend to the throne of the Demon Emperor.

That moment marked her vow to trust no one ever again. What he failed to recognize was that she, destined to become the first Demon Emperor, would never truly perish. Each time she fell, she rose anew as a phoenix from the ashes of Nirvana.

Fueled by fury, anguish, and haunting memories, she obliterated anyone who dared stand in her path. She embarked once more on her quest to reclaim all that was rightfully hers.

She delved into forbidden sorcery, formed unbreakable alliances, and even bent the very essence of death to serve her will. Those who once reveled in her misfortune came to cower before her—pleading for the mercy she was unwilling to grant.

When she reached out for help, who extended their hands towards her? When she pleaded for compassion, who offered her solace? When she poured out her kindness to others, who remembered her benevolence? When she was betrayed and left vulnerable, who stood by her side? When they cast her aside for power and recognition, who was left to remember her? No one, absolutely no one!

Now, as the Supreme Demon Emperor, she wielded immeasurable power. She possessed it all—strength, dread, and a vast empire stretching across the abyss and the cosmos. Yet, as she sat in solitude upon her throne, enveloped by shadows and the echoes of silence, a question lingered…

Was it all worth it?

Then, she erupted into manic laughter. Indeed, it was worth it. She had slain the wretch who took everything from her, erased those who trampled on her, and claimed the heads and souls of those who betrayed her.

In the end, no one dared to cross her again. She ruled the Demon Realm through her ruthless methods, sending icy dread into the hearts of anyone who might entertain thoughts of treachery.