The dust has settled, and embers still gleam.
As the imprinting of the Great Dao Divine Patterns was completed, the supreme sense of oppression that had enveloped the Primordial Wilderness and solidified all things quietly dissipated.
The stationary star fragments continued to fall, but their speed and trajectory had been corrected by some unseen force, preventing them from causing a Destruction impact.
The Earth Fire magma began to flow back into the Earth's lungs in an orderly manner; the overflowing Heavenly River Water was diverted by an invisible barrier to specific low-lying areas, forming new inland seas.
Although the overwhelming aura of resentment still lingered, it seemed to have been incorporated into a slow cycle of purification.
The primordial energy of heaven and earth began to circulate again in a more gentle way, and the broken laws were temporarily "bonded".
The Primordial World did not immediately return to its original state; the horrific scars covering the land remained a shocking sight.
But at least, that feeling of utter despair, on the verge of complete collapse, was contained.
Like a giant critically wounded and dying, who was forcibly kept on his last breath, thus gaining the possibility of breathing and healing.
Hongjun's figure still stood in the sky, his Daoist aura flowing, transcending worldly affairs.
He didn't look at any specific being below, as if what had just been established in the name of the Heavenly Dao as an eternal law was merely a natural manifestation of the rules of heaven and earth.
Its final gaze seemed to pierce through the shattered void, looking towards the boundless chaos beyond the Primordial Wilderness, or perhaps it was simply silently observing this scarred yet infinitely possible world itself.
Then, the gray figure, along with the purple lotus beneath its feet, faded and blurred silently, like ink dissolving in water, until it vanished completely without a trace.
It was as if it had never existed.
However, the divine rules and patterns imprinted on the origin of heaven and earth and the souls of the lich and Witch and Demon giants, as well as the state of the entire Primordial World after it was forcibly "fixed" and "organized," clearly proclaimed the arrival of the Dao Ancestor and the absolute authority of his decree.
On the battlefield, a deathly silence descended once more.
Di Jun and Tai Yi stood on the broken Greater Yang Chariot, looking at the Heavenly Court projection that resembled ruins, and feeling the cold and ruthless "Demon Palm Heaven" shackles in their souls and the endless truce order. Their expressions were extremely complicated.
It's a prison of ten thousand Kalpa, but also an opportunity to catch our breath and rebuild.
Tai Yi silently raised the Chaos Bell. The blood of the Golden Crow stained on the bell's surface was particularly glaring. The bell tolled deeply, beginning to summon the remaining demon tribes.
Gonggong struggled to his feet from the boulder he was leaning against. He looked at the broken mountain range beneath his feet and his bloodied hands, then gazed into the distance in the direction where Houtu and Gou Mang were located. His eyes were filled with confusion and resentment. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh and issued a low war horn of the Witch Clan to summon the remaining great shamans scattered in all directions.
Zhurong extinguished her dim flames and stood silently beside him.
Above the abyss.
Qing Huan slowly lowered his raised hand.
The lingering aura of ultimate annihilation at his fingertips had long since vanished without a trace.
Hongjun's appearance and the establishment of rules interrupted his final attack.
Standing silently in the void, the shock and solemnity in his yin-yang eyes gradually faded, replaced by an unfathomable indifference.
However, within this indifference, there seemed to be an extremely subtle understanding and... contemplation?
Is it a recognition of Hongjun's power, which transcends the realm of saints and acts on behalf of Heaven?
Still referring to "ten thousand Kalpa"
How is this long-term, Primordial Wilderness transformation being predicted?
He glanced at the faint green light (the remnant soul of Gou Mang) at the bottom of the abyss, which had stabilized somewhat and was still breathing weakly, and then looked down at Houtu, who was covered in frost, barely breathing but still had a Houtu of life.
The Dao Ancestor decreed that the war Witch and Demon Kalpa
To harbor murderous intent now would be tantamount to directly challenging the rules of Heavenly Dao, and the punishment of "being reduced to ashes" would be no exaggeration.
The Seven Symbols Umbrella returned to its calm suspension, its radiance remaining restrained.
The World-Purifying White Lotus slowly began to rotate again, its gentle light once more illuminating and purifying the remaining resentment and bloodshed in the area.
Qing Huan's figure appeared even more ethereal and solitary amidst the lotus light and the shadow of the umbrella.
It did not leave, but simply hovered there quietly, like an indifferent observer, witnessing how this catastrophic Tribulation that swept across the Primordial Wilderness world was forcibly brought to a halt with an almost eternal truce under the intervention of the Dao Ancestor.
In the shattered world, the surviving Witch and Demon Races silently gathered their remaining forces, licked their wounds, and faced endless grief and an uncertain future.
The tangible texture of the charred wood grain of the Greater Yang Chariot lingered on Di Jun's fingertips. The spokes that once symbolized supreme power now only retained the warmth of the calamity fire and the stench of blood after the fall of the chariot.
The deep tolling of Tai Yi's bell was no longer a proclamation commanding the galaxy, but a mournful dirge summoning souls. It pierced through the congealed blood and dust, calling out to every trembling, mortally damaged demon creature among the wreckage of starships, on broken stars, and at the edge of the Earth Fire fissures.
His response was a few dim starlight, the mournful cry of a broken feather, and the numb gaze of someone who had survived a catastrophe but was trapped in an eternal prison.
The ruins projected from the Heavenly Court, like the corpse of a colossal beast, lay across the fractured celestial sphere, silently testifying to the complete collapse of its glory.
Gonggong's roar finally turned into a heart-wrenching howl. The Witch Clan's war horn crashed into the remaining Daoist barrier of Hongjun, shattering into countless cold, unrecognizable dust particles.
Beneath their feet, the broken spine of Buzhou still bled, but what surged forth was no longer the scalding fire of revenge, but rather docile lava forcibly guided back to the earth's core by the power of the Heavenly Dao, returning to "order." This "order" itself was the most poisonous curse.
The inextinguishable fire on Zhurong's body, symbolizing the blossoming of life, was now as weak as a candle in the wind, barely protecting only a few feet around him, reflecting on his silent and distorted face—the god of fire felt a chill to the bone.
Scattered throughout the Primordial Wilderness, those great shamans who were fortunate enough not to be completely annihilated by the falling stars, the erupting Earth Fire, and the overflowing celestial river, dragged their broken bodies, following the call of the Ancestral Witch in their bloodline, or trekked across the scorched earth.
They swam through the Blood Sea, each step treading upon the bones of their compatriots, each step branded with the shame and weight of the word "truce."
Above the abyss, time seemed to stand still around the Qing Huan. The pure radiance of the World-Purifying White Lotus and the faint light of the Seven Symbols Umbrella were isolated in this void that had just experienced the brink of annihilation.
His indifferent gaze swept across the area below.
The Houtu, covered in frost, teems with life yet pulsates tenaciously.
At the bottom of the abyss, Gou Mang's faint green light, like the last firefly at the end of a cold night, was extremely slow and struggling to absorb the remaining Essence of Wood in the world under the protection of Houtu.
The plan failed.
These four words, as cold as stubborn iron from the depths of chaos, slammed into the seemingly calm and still heart of Qing Huan.
The aura of ultimate annihilation at her fingertips, powerful enough to end the origins of the Ancestral Witch and completely rewrite Houtu's fate, had long been forcibly dispelled by the supreme might of the Heavenly Dao Heavenly Might, leaving not even a trace...