Houtu's Goodwill? No, It's New Karma!

Just as Yang Chen was locked onto by the pressure from the Twelve Ancestral Witches Stone Statues, his excitement reaching its peak, a voice rang out without any warning.

This voice pierced through the torrent of twelve wills, each powerful enough to tear apart a Grand Unity Golden Immortal, and echoed precisely within his Sea of Consciousness.

"Fellow Daoist from afar, please do not panic."

The voice was gentle, profound, carrying a compassion akin to the sprouting of all things.

It wasn't like any magical energy transmission; it was more like a pulse from the depths of the earth, the whisper of the first seed breaking through the soil in spring.

While the voice did not dispel the terrifying battle intent that could annihilate all things, it forcefully carved out a tranquil sanctuary for him within that savage and overbearing world of blood, carefully protecting Yang Chen's Divine Soul within.

The Blood Essence within Yang Chen, which had been boiling madly from extreme stimulation just moments ago, paused slightly.

A hint of inquiry entered his eyes, which had been filled with excitement.

To be able to interfere with the lock of the Twelve Ancestral Witches' wills? And a woman at that. This is interesting.

"The Ancestral Witches Stone Statues bear no ill will. They merely sensed the formidable physical Blood Essence on you, as well as that faint Pangu aura."

The voice continued to explain, each word carrying a comforting power.

Pangu aura? What a nice way to put it. You clearly sensed the resentment of Pangu's mortal enemy and the power of Pangu's origin, two completely opposite things.

Yang Chen's gaze followed the source of the voice.

His eyes passed over the countless distorted faces below, contorted with fervor and excitement, and landed precisely in the depths of the most magnificent tribe.

From a palace carved from a single giant rock, with a rugged style, a figure slowly emerged.

It was a woman.

She wore the simplest earth-yellow palace attire, her long hair casually tied back, her face gentle, her eyes carrying a compassion that seemed out of place on this iron-blooded land.

As she walked, there was no fluctuation of magical energy from her, no dust stirred beneath her feet, and even the sound of her footsteps was barely audible.

Yet, with every step she took, the clamor and ferocity of the Witch Clan tribe, their earth-shattering cheers and roars, suddenly subsided.

The thick, unresolvable scent of blood and battle intent in the air seemed to be washed away by a silent spring rain, gradually spreading the fragrance of damp earth.

She was the earth.

The earth was her.

Among the Twelve Ancestral Witches, the most unique, the one who wielded the Law of Earth.

The future Lord of the Earthly Dao.

Houtu.

The fervor in Yang Chen's eyes quickly cooled.

So it's her.

The only brain among twelve brutes who only knew how to think with their fists.

This is a bit troublesome.

The flame within him, ignited with the desire for a hearty battle, felt like it was doused by a basin of cold water, leaving him with a sense of inexplicable disinterest.

He had originally been looking forward to a simple, direct, fist-to-fist "exchange."

Houtu arrived in the plaza and looked up at Yang Chen, who was floating in mid-air, offering a slight bow.

This person... is very strange. He carries both the immense resentment and Karma of Father God's mortal enemy, and the supreme aura of Father God's Law of Strength. The statues' reaction is both anger and closeness. Is he friend or foe? Is he an irredeemable disaster for our Witch Clan, or a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? I must find out.

A simple gesture, yet it seemed to stir the will of the entire Primordial World, saluting Yang Chen.

"I am Houtu. Greetings, Fellow Daoist."

Her voice was soft, her gaze clear, as if it could cleanse all the filth and violence in the world.

"Fellow Daoist carries great fortune and great Karma. What brings you to our Witch Clan this time?"

Her attitude was exceedingly kind.

Her words were filled with respect for a stranger and a powerful individual.

Her appearance was like a spring breeze, dispelling the tense, on-the-verge-of-confrontation atmosphere that had preceded it.

But Yang Chen, in the deepest part of those compassionate and gentle eyes, caught a fleeting glimpse of a solemnity as heavy as the Earth's core.

Kindness?

Yang Chen smiled silently in his heart.

What kindness indeed.

What "sense" indeed.

The Ancestral Dragon Essence Blood within him, far from calming down at this moment, became even more vigilant upon sensing an aura far more dangerous and profound than those twelve battle intents.

The Dragon, Phoenix, and Qilin Clans were like glaring daggers.

Their hatred and Karma were written on their faces, out in the open, simple and direct. Though troublesome, they were pure.

But this Empress Houtu before him was an invisible, formless giant net.

With the gentlest demeanor and the kindest words, she was silently spreading this net, attempting to ensnare him.

This net was woven more densely, tougher, and far deadlier than the one spun by the Dragon, Phoenix, and Qilin Clans.

Pangu's aura?

What a nice way to put it.

Yang Chen knew very well that what the Witch Clan cared about most, what had awakened these twelve stone statues from their eternal slumber, was not simply his physical Blood Essence or those pitiful fragments of the Law of Strength.

It was two diametrically opposed yet simultaneously existing Karmas originating from Pangu!

The first was the immense enmity forged with Pangu's true body during their battle in the West, inherited from the Demon Ancestor Rahula.

This was a Gordian knot.

A mark of an enemy that the Witch Clan absolutely could not tolerate.

The second was the supreme Law of Strength that Pangu used to create heaven and earth.

This was the origin.

It was the noblest, most core inherited imprint within the Witch Clan's Bloodline.

Enemy.

And.

Inheritance.

These two extremely contradictory things appearing in one person simultaneously.

This was the true reason the twelve Ancestral Witch stone statues were awakened from their eternal slumber!

This was the fundamental reason Houtu, the Ancestral Witch who governed the earth and was known for her composure and wisdom, would personally appear and converse with him in such a manner!

She was assessing the risks.

She was also assessing the value.

The "goodwill" in her words was a probing tendril.

The "great fortune, great karma" in her words was the true core.

She was distinguishing.

Distinguishing whether he was the "enemy" who inherited the resentment of Father God's mortal enemy, or the "one of us" who carried Father God's supreme inheritance.

This was hardly a greeting of goodwill.

This was clearly a new, even larger, and more troublesome Karma that had actively sought him out!

Yang Chen's thoughts raced, but his face remained as impassive as ever.

What he enjoyed was the process of forcing creditors to yield.

The pleasure of watching those high and mighty beings manipulated by him, only to offer everything in the end.

Houtu's "gentleness" made him feel a hint of boredom.

He even found himself missing the Ancestral Dragon's simple and direct roars, and the Phoenix Ancestor's unyielding pride.

Dealing with intelligent people was, at times, truly exhausting.

It required calculation and pretense, far less satisfying than a direct punch.

Yang Chen sneered inwardly, suppressing the Bloodline Power that was almost bursting from his body, his expression unchanged.

He didn't even bother descending from mid-air. He simply looked down from his superior position at this future Lord of the Earthly Dao and responded indifferently.

"Just passing through, taking a look around."