At these words, the entire hall fell deathly silent. Who in the Primordial World did not know? The Witch Clan's sinews and bones were comparable to divine iron, impervious to water and fire, unharmed by blades and axes. Their flesh was actually three parts tougher than Immortal Artifacts! The Ancestral Witches were especially terrifying. Every sinew and meridian in their bodies had been transformed from Pangu's Essence Blood. Ordinary attacks would rebound off them with enough force to shatter Immortal Artifacts. Looking across the heavens, the only ones who could truly harm them were a Sage's Hand—or those few supreme treasures left behind from World Creation.
Ultimately, no matter how powerful a body was, it could not escape the heavenly law that one thing always countered another. The Witch Clan might be tyrannical, but there was still a weakness to be found. The only problem was that the current Demon Race had not even found the edge of that door.
The Witch Clan's thirteenth Ancestral Witch had descended into the world, and the entire clan was delirious with joy, their drums and music shaking the heavens. In contrast, dark clouds hung over the Demon Race Heavenly Court, and sorrowful mist lay heavy in the air. That lingering anxiety pressed firmly against the hearts of every demon minister. The Witch Clan's Bronze Tendons and Iron Bones were unmatched throughout the Primordial World, and no one could stand against them. If the Demon Race wanted victory, it first had to find a method to counter their physical bodies. But where was that method hidden? No one knew. Thus, this impenetrable cloud of sorrow hung over the Demon Emperor's Palace day after day, so dense that it could not disperse.
After a long silence, Di Jun slowly parted his lips. "Everyone, return and