"Fellow Daoist Qing Xuan, I'm here again!"
Qing Xuan opened his eyes helplessly. Zhurong was simply a battle maniac, coming to spar with him again.
Several years had passed since the day the Twelve Ancestral Witches viewed Pangu's portrait. Afterward, everyone had returned to Closed-door Cultivation. Dijiang had told Qing Xuan to wait, promising to take him to the Wu Clan Treasury, before going into cultivation himself.
Who would have thought that the Twelve Ancestral Witches' seclusion would last several years? And the first to raise the Nine Revolutions Profound Art to the perfection of the eighth revolution was unexpectedly Zhurong.
Afterward, under the excuse that Qing Xuan might feel lonely, Zhurong began a year-long series of sparring matches.
Qing Xuan walked out of the cave mansion and looked at Zhurong, who was wreathed in flames. At first, Qing Xuan had been rather interested. The Twelve Ancestral Witches were born with mastery over laws, and he had wanted to see how they differed from those cultivated after birth. But after discovering there was no difference, he lost all interest in sparring.
Qing Xuan was considering leaving first and returning another day to claim his Spiritual Treasures. Just as he was about to tell Zhurong of his intention to depart, numerous auras approached from afar.
"Hahaha, brothers and sisters, they've broken through too!" Zhurong sensed the other Ancestral Witches' auras, happily slapped Qing Xuan on the shoulder, and spoke.
Hearing this, Qing Xuan decided to wait a little longer. Soon, the two of them saw figure after figure flying over.
"Many thanks, Fellow Daoist Qing Xuan. If you encounter any trouble in the future, come find me, Qiangliang. I will certainly help!" the Thunder Ancestral Witch said with a smile.
"Me too! Me too!" The other Ancestral Witches who had arrived