The Nine Tripods Are the Goal

"From this day forward, for five hundred years, the Witch Clan will not dare ask after the Nine Tripods again."

A Heavenly Sect master had died. One of the supreme figures standing at the very pinnacle of the world had fallen.

Hutian'nu was one of the strongest beings of the age; only the combined strength of the six prefectural governors of the northern lands could contend with him. Yet before one of the Nine Tripods, he had been utterly powerless. In the end, his strength gave out and he died, crushed into fragments beneath its suppression.

This cruel, icy reality told every witness: those who rashly questioned the weight of the Tripods would die!

So this was such a perilous trial for Martial Saints who sought to lift the Nine Tripods. Failure meant death—there was no road back!

As the Great Witch Chief and leader of this Witch Clan invasion, Hutian'nu's death sent the Witch Clan's morale plunging into the abyss. Defeats and retreats began unfolding one after another across every battlefield.

Freed up at last, the six great prefectural governors began sweeping in all directions, killing the Earth Sect powerhouses among the witch clans one by one.

For a time, heaven and earth surged with blood. Yellow earth was dyed black, azure skies shone crimson, and countless massive corpses fell one after another like a meteor shower, slamming into the ground with heavy thuds.

The bodies of Grandmasters and Strong Martial cultivators scattered like raindrops across the six northern prefectures, smashing out lakes and piling into hills.

The insect swarms, Gu Kings, and witch beasts were slaughtered on an even greater scale. Their remaining corpses were devoured by wild beasts, while their venom and bloodlines contaminated all sorts of creatures in the Central Plains. From then on, the chances