Huh? Isn't this an adventure kingdom building game?! Chapter 1042 864: Jiu Mu's Past3

The Essence Condensation Realm is equivalent to the Fusion Realm of Human Race Cultivators, categorized by the system as a low-level monster. When he "picked up" Xiao Bai, he could kill several Fusion Realm cultivators back and forth.

Even such a low-level Demon Cultivator in the depths of the remote mountains with sparse Demonic Energy is a powerhouse capable of shaking the realms by rely stomping his foot.

The survival environnt in the Demon Realm is more savage. Once a Demon Cultivator occupies a territory, the ordinary Demon Race living there automatically becos its slaves.

Regardless of whether protection is offered, it is common for an entire clan to be implicated and slaughtered if any of the ordinary Demon Race dares to show the slightest noncompliance.

"Thus, ordinary Demon Race who couldn't awaken to beco Demon Cultivators lived worse than the Demon Beasts of the Wilderness World," Jiu Mu recalled the past and sighed, "Even mortals from the Human World, under protection, can live in peace to so extent, but back then, every day when we opened our eyes, we weren't sure if we would have a bed to sleep in at night.

Since I started rembering, I have never seen my parents and could only follow my aunt to make a living.

The aunt and clansn said that when I was not yet one year old, a heavy rain fell, and the lake in the mountains collapsed, flooding fields and villages.

My father was conscripted to repair the dam in pouring rain and never returned.

Only two of the clansn who went with him escaped back, saying that the heavy rain was actually magic cast by a Demon Cultivator. To amuse his beloved concubine, he intentionally made the commoners repair the dam and then washed them into the river, watching them struggle and cry for help like ants.

They said when escaping, they saw my father still alive, holding onto a piece of wood floating and spinning on the water, calling for help, urging the clansn to rescue him.

My mother then entrusted to my grandmother's care and went with my uncle and clansn, carrying ropes to rescue him. They never returned either.

Later, when my grandmother passed away, she could only entrust to my aunt. She was kind-hearted but old, and the food she obtained from labor could barely keep from starving.

Since I started rembering, my aunt would only be free late at night every day, and then she would repeatedly recount that tragic event.

It's not enough that my parents and so many clansn drowned; the Demon Cultivator was furious that soone dared to secretly escape, not only killed those two runaway clansn but also waved a fla that couldn't be extinguished with water, burning half of the village and taking more than ten lives.

She frequently told in the dark: Jiu'Er, you have to rember how your relatives were killed. You must rember: If you can beco a Demon Cultivator, you must avenge them!

If you can't beco a Demon Cultivator, when you grow up, leave far away, find a Demon Cultivator who treats you well, whether as a concubine or otherwise, as long as they can protect you entirely. Our lives are not even considered ants in the eyes of those Demon Cultivators. Without a patron, we don't know when we might die.

She said she was old and sick all over, afraid of not living until I grew up, afraid I would forget those hatreds, so she must tell every day, imprint it into my mind, engrave it into my bones."

After a few breaths of silence, her eyes moistened again, "On my sixth birthday, my aunt cheerfully called ho, saying she had prepared a gift for .

The linen robe made by the master resembles the gift I received so much. When I turned six, it was the first ti I owned a brand-new, coarse yet oversized linen robe.

That should have been one of the rare new clothes my aunt had over the years, yet she gave it to as a gift.

In those days, a coarse linen robe seed like a heavenly garnt to ; I was even reluctant to wear it!

But shortly after, my aunt accidentally fell off a cliff while chopping wood in the mountains.

When the clansn found and carried her back, she was already breathing more than inhaling. She held my hand and said: There's still four years left, and before you turn ten, there's a chance to awaken as a Demon Cultivator. You must strive! Beco a mighty Demon Cultivator, so the whole clan will never be bullied again!"