The reason Azraeth V' khorath could speak with such certainty was simple: in ages past, his demon clan ruled the path of body cultivation. Their ancestors walked as titans, flesh like steel, their secrets buried with the fall of Empires. But history had not been kind; the inheritance had splintered and faded.
Even now, among the demon race, true body cultivators were rare as dragon pearls.
Yet, even with bits and pieces remaining, their foundation outstripped the human clans. Most demon cultivators with their physical bodies were outright monsters compared to human experts of the same realm.
That's why demons were always stronger in direct combat—even if humanity had their own tricks.
So the demon race had never spread these methods. No books, no legacies handed off to outsiders. The less their enemies knew, the longer they kept their edge.
Azraeth stared up at the grey stone above, thinking,
