Battling the Twelve Ancestral Magi, Who is the True Descendant of Pangu!

Pangu Hall.

At this moment, an unprecedented aura of slaughter filled the air.

Su Ming had just stabilized his own cultivation realm, the surging power still coursing through his limbs and bones, his battle intent soaring.

He was just thinking about where to find a suitable opponent when his mind stirred, and he sensed twelve powerful, overbearing auras converging on this place from all directions at breakneck speed.

It was the Twelve Ancestral Magi!

"Perfect timing."

A faint smile curled at the corner of Su Ming's mouth. Far from feeling any tension at having broken into someone else's lair, he instead exuded the calm of a master of the house.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Twelve towering figures, as if propping up heaven and earth, appeared outside Pangu Hall almost simultaneously.

Their forms were varied, but their auras stemmed from the same source—each was supremely domineering, their Sha Qi piercing the heavens.

These were the Twelve Ancestral Magi, fresh from their great battle against the Demon Emperor Di Jun and Eastern Emperor Tai Yi!

At their head was one with a human face and a bird's body, four wings on his back, and six claws on his chest—Dijiang, the Ancestral Magus of Space and Speed!

His gaze was like lightning, instantly locking onto the completely unfamiliar figure inside Pangu Hall.

"Who are you? How dare you trespass into our Magi sacred hall!"

Dijiang's voice was not loud, but it carried the power of spatial vibration, as if it could tear apart souls.

The gazes of the other eleven Ancestral Magi also fixed squarely on Su Ming—shock, confusion, but above all, blazing fury!

Pangu Hall!

This was the holy land of their Magi race, transformed from Father God's head. No living being other than the Twelve Ancestral Magi could set foot inside!

Yet now, a being they had never seen before had not only entered but was sitting openly in the center of the hall, his posture as if he were the true master here!

This was an utter disgrace!

"Death to any who trespass into Pangu Hall!"

Zhurong, the most hot-tempered of them, could no longer hold back.

His entire body blazed with crimson Divine Fire—not ordinary flames, but the law-fire that could incinerate all things. The void around him twisted and collapsed from the heat.

Facing the overwhelming ferocity of the Twelve Ancestral Magi, Su Ming's expression did not change in the slightest.

He slowly rose to his feet, his gaze calmly sweeping over them before settling on Dijiang. He spoke flatly:

"Pangu Hall was transformed from Father God's head. I carry Father God's bloodline within me. This place is my home."

The moment these words fell, the hall fell into dead silence.

Then came an eruption of fury like a volcano bursting!

"Nonsense!"

"A brat like you dares to claim Father God's bloodline?!"

"Big brother, don't waste words on him—kill him!"

Zhurong was the first to lose control. Fiery by nature, he was now beyond enraged.

Descendants of Pangu?

In this primordial wilderness, aside from the Twelve Ancestral Magi, who dared to call themselves descendants of Pangu?!

This was not only a provocation to them but an insult to the supreme Father God in their hearts!

"Boy, die!"

Zhurong roared, his entire form turning into a streak of flame. Without using any divine ability, he simply threw a straightforward punch straight at Su Ming's face!

This fist contained the explosive destruction of the Law of Fire, enough to pulverize an ancient divine mountain into dust in an instant!

In Zhurong's eyes, dealing with an arrogant brat who didn't know his place required only one punch.

Yet, faced with this earth-shattering blow, Su Ming didn't even lift an eyelid.

He, too, did not use any magical power. He merely drew a sliver of the ocean-like blood energy within his body and gathered it into his right fist.

He did not retreat—he advanced!

As all the Ancestral Magi watched, fully expecting Su Ming to be blasted to pieces, his fist collided solidly with Zhurong's!

"Boom—!!!"

There was no earth-shattering explosion as imagined, only a dull, extreme roar that seemed capable of shattering one's heart!

The next moment, a figure flew backward at a speed even faster than it had come!

Bang!

That figure slammed heavily into the indestructible wall of Pangu Hall, cracking the wall inscribed with Dao runes into a web of fissures!

The entire Pangu Hall trembled!

Everyone's gaze froze instantly.

The one sent flying backward was not that unfamiliar junior.

It was Zhurong!

Among the Twelve Ancestral Magi, the Fire Ancestral Magi, famed for strength and explosive power—Zhurong!

"This... how is this possible?!"

Gonggong, the Water Ancestral Magi, cried out in shock.

The other Ancestral Magi, including Dijiang at their head, all sharply narrowed their eyes!

What had they just witnessed?

Zhurong's fist was a bloody mess, his finger bones shattered inch by inch, his entire arm twisted into a grotesque shape!

And as for that young man, he still stood in place, hands clasped behind his back, not even a corner of his robe stirred.

One punch!

Just one punch!

A pure collision of physical strength—Zhurong, utterly defeated!

This completely overturned their understanding!

The Wu race were born mastering the laws, their physical bodies unmatched in ferocity—this was their greatest reliance for rampaging through the Primordial World!

They considered themselves descendants of Pangu, their physical strength unrivaled in the age!

But this man before them—his physical body was even more terrifying than an Ancestral Magi?!

"Damn it! I won't accept this!"

Zhurong slid down from the wall, letting out a sky-shaking roar.

Humiliation! Unprecedented humiliation!

He had been crushed with a single punch in the very aspect he prided himself on most—his physical body!

"Again!"

Zhurong's eyes blazed crimson, his demeanor like a mad demon, the law flames around him surging wildly as he once again turned into a blur charging at Su Ming!

Su Ming's gaze was indifferent, another utterly ordinary punch.

Boom!

Zhurong flew backward again, crashing into another wall.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Zhurong charged forward in unwillingness again and again, only to be sent flying by Su Ming's effortless punches time after time.

He was like a reckless child challenging a towering giant—each attack seemed so laughable, so powerless.

The entire Pangu Hall was filled with nothing but the dull thuds of Zhurong being blasted away repeatedly, and the increasingly heavy breathing of the other eleven Ancestral Magi.

"Enough!"

Dijiang finally spoke, stopping Zhurong who was about to charge again.

His expression was grim to the extreme, his eyes fixed on Su Ming: "You... who exactly are you?"

Su Ming withdrew his fist and cast them a faint glance, his look like that of an elder watching unworthy juniors.

"I am the True Descendant of Pangu, a descendant of the gods!"