Hundreds of thousands of years had passed quietly by after the ancient demon cataclysm. The Vermilion Bird had suppressed its lifeforce and avoided using any of its divine arts to minimize the exhaustion of its lifespan. Even then, it couldn’t avoid the decaying effects of time and was now in its twilight years.

If this had been the ancient era, it could simply plunge into the flames of rebirth and have a fifty percent chance to rise from the ashes again. Unfortunately, the current state of affairs wasn’t conducive for such things.

If it were to attempt rebirth now, its success rate would likely be less than one in a thousand. Thus, it’d already given up hope. Its promise to the ancient Primosanct Sect was the sole reason it persevered to this day.

It would keep an eye on the demon lord until death relieved it of its duty.

Deep down, it’d already accepted that death was inevitable. However, a sliver of optimism...

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