That Dao Ancestor who had remained behind the scenes for ages, never failing once from ancient times to the present—
Every old fellow who had lived through those years knew just how grudging and ruthless he was.
With his methods and temperament, how could he truly stand by with folded arms and remain motionless now that the Heavenly Dao Camp had lost all face and authority over the Three Realms?
Even if the sky came crashing down, they would never believe Hongjun would willingly hand over such benefits.
The only possibility was—he could not take them back even if he acted personally.
That conclusion sounded utterly absurd, almost impossible, yet it was the only explanation that made sense.
One had to know that Hongjun had already shaken the Great Desolation with his fame in ancient times.
He was the first Saint beneath the Heavenly Dao to attain the Dao.
When he expounded the Dao at Purple Heaven Palace, Three Thousand Mortal World Guests had gathered to hear him.
His prestige had long stood high amid the clouds, beyond anyone's reach.
For such a transcendent being, if anyone dared lay a hand on his fundamental interests, they would surely suffer a thunderous retaliation, killed to warn the rest.
Yet now the four seas were silent, and all was calm.
That could only mean one chilling fact:
Even if Hongjun came in person, he might not be able to defeat Empress Pingxin—
at the very least, they were evenly matched, neither able to gain the upper hand.
Otherwise, the Earthly Dao camp's sphere of influence would not have continued expanding.
All these signs were plain to see, supported by solid evidence.
The more clues piled up, the more certain they became of this judgment.
The truth had always been held in the