Unexpected Visitor! The Twelve Ancestral Witches' Gaze, Father God's "Relative"?

Buzhou Mountain, the heavenly pillar that bore the spine of the Pangu God and propped up the heavens and earth of the Primordial World, suddenly emitted a deep, low rumble.

The sound was not like thunder cracking, but rather like an ancient primordial beast stirring from its slumber, causing the entire mountain range to tremble faintly.

The three of them—Taiyuan and his companions—had just ridden the Twelve-Grade Golden Lotus of Merit out from the mountainside of Buzhou and had yet to pick up speed when heaven and earth abruptly changed color.

The sky, which had been fairly clear moments before, was instantly shrouded by a thick, cloying turbid Sha Qi. This was no ordinary Sha Qi, but an ancient divine Sha from the depths of the earth, filled with brutality and bloodshed.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Twelve towering demon god phantoms materialized without warning in the void.

There was Zhurong, with a beast's head and a human body, draped in red scales, fire snakes coiled at his ears; Gonggong, with a python's head and a human body, clad in black scales, treading on a black dragon; and Houtu, with seven spines on her back, a human face and a tiger's body, holding a giant serpent...

The Twelve Ancestral Witches!

These barbaric overlords, who usually lurked at the base of Buzhou Mountain and rarely concerned themselves with worldly affairs, had now appeared together, their terrifying pressure instantly sealing off the void for millions of miles around.

"Not good!"

Di Jun and Tai Yi, who had just finished dividing the treasures and hadn't gone far, had their faces turn extremely ugly in an instant.

The Demon Race and the Witch Clan were natural mortal enemies. Seeing the Twelve Ancestral Witches emerge together, Di Jun instinctively summoned the He Tu Luo Shu, while Tai Yi put away the Immortal Slaying Gourd he hadn't even warmed up yet, re-gripped the Chaos Bell, and let the True Sun Fire surge wildly around him.

Over by the Three Pure Ones, Primordial Heavenly Lord frowned deeply, a flicker of disgust and wariness in his eyes.

"These barbarians, who cultivate only the body and not the Primordial Spirit—why have they suddenly appeared? Could it be for those gourds?"

"No."

Laozi shook his head. His old eyes, which always seemed hazy, now flashed with sharp insight. "Their qi is not locked onto us, but rather..."

Everyone's gaze followed the line of sight of those twelve terrifying phantoms and landed squarely on... Taiyuan.

More precisely, on the sleeve where he had just stowed away the withered vine and a handful of Breathing Soil.

"Who dares to touch the soil of Father God's spine?!"

A sharp cry, carrying a pressure as heavy as the earth itself, rang out from the human-faced, tiger-bodied phantom.

Houtu.

She was the only female among the Twelve Ancestral Witches, and the one who governed the laws of the earth. She was the most sensitive to any change in Buzhou Mountain, the spine of Father God.

With this question, twelve gazes filled with killing intent, like twelve solid swords, locked onto the three on the golden lotus.

"We're doomed, doomed!"

Zhunti was so startled by this sudden turn of events that his hand holding the Sky-Turning Shovel was slick with sweat. "Elder Brother, these barbarians don't listen to reason! They don't even respect Dao Ancestor Hongjun. If they start a fight, our little bodies..."

Jieyin's face was also bitter. The golden lotus in his hand blazed with light as he tried to raise a defensive barrier, but under the suppression of the Twelve Capital Gods and Demons' aura, the merit golden light—normally indestructible—now flickered like a candle in the wind.

Only Taiyuan remained.

He stood at the front of the lotus, facing the torrent of Sha Qi that could shatter a Zenith Heaven Golden Immortal's Dao Heart. Not only did he show no panic, but he slowly put away his defensive treasures.

He even patted the dirt off his sleeve, a gentle smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

"Don't panic."

Taiyuan quietly reassured his two younger brothers, then clasped his hands behind his back and stepped forward.

He did not summon any spiritual treasure, nor did he display any divine ability.

He simply closed his eyes slowly, and then, the mark at the center of his brow—the one that had accompanied him since his transmigration—suddenly blazed to life.

Hum—

A soft, pure white light, filled with boundless compassion and affection, bloomed from Taiyuan's brow.

This light was not blinding; in fact, it seemed insignificant before the overwhelming Sha Qi of the Twelve Ancestral Witches.

But the moment it appeared, the violent Sha Qi melted and retreated like snow under a scorching sun.

The Pangu Wish Light.

This was the first wisp of "hope" left in heaven and earth when the Pangu God split the heavens and created the world, transforming his body into all things.

It was Pangu's love for this world, his expectation for all living beings—an existence closer to Pangu's "divine soul" origin than the Twelve Ancestral Witches, who were born from his twelve drops of essence blood.

"Little Earth, and you, Little Fire who likes to play with flames."

Taiyuan opened his eyes. Those originally warm pupils now held a hint of the kindly, helpless look an elder gives to rebellious children.

He looked at the several massive, murderous figures in the void, his tone as gentle as if he were chatting about everyday matters:

"Shouting and carrying on like this—what kind of behavior is that? Aren't you afraid of disturbing Father God's rest?"

"Who are you?!"

Zhurong's irascible voice cut off abruptly. The Innate Divine Fire he had been about to spew got stuck in his throat, making him cough twice.

Houtu's giant dharma phantom shuddered violently. In her beast-like eyes, once filled with killing intent, there now appeared a trace of confusion and... longing?

That aura...

It was too familiar.

Too dear.

That was the aura of the Father God—flowing deep within their bloodline, a presence they yearned for day and night yet could never touch!

"Me?"

Taiyuan smiled, the light around him growing even softer. "I'm here on behalf of the Father God to see you all, and to take a look at this world."

"This soil was formed from the Father God's spine. I know you treasure it."

"But if it just rots in the ground, it's nothing but a handful of dead matter."

"I'm taking it to nurture life, to let the Father God's legacy spread and branch out across this Primordial World, to extend that thread of hope."

"If the Father God's spirit in heaven saw how petty you're being, He'd probably be displeased too."

If anyone else had said this—even the Dao Ancestor Hongjun—the Twelve Ancestral Witches would have likely thrown a punch by now.

But coming from Taiyuan, backed by that pure, unmistakable aura of Pangu's will...

It changed everything.

It was like an elder who'd been away from home for years suddenly returning to scold a few unruly juniors. The words might sting, but the warmth behind them couldn't be faked.

The Twelve Ancestral Witches were famously straightforward and stubborn.

In their simple logic: having the Father God's aura = one of us = an elder.

And if an elder took some soil for a worthy cause, could that be called stealing? No—it was called taking!

The tense, sword-drawn atmosphere instantly turned bizarre.

Zhurong scratched his massive, flaming head and looked at his elder brother Dijiang with a simple, honest expression. "Big Brother, this person's scent... it smells so good. I want to cry."

Gonggong sniffled, his eyes reddening. "I want to cry too. It feels like the Father God is patting my head."

Houtu directly dispelled her dharma form, transforming into a gentle woman in a earth-yellow robe. She bowed deeply to Taiyuan from afar, her eyes full of reverence and guilt:

"Houtu was reckless. I did not know you were kin to the Father God. Please forgive my offense."

That bow left all the nearby great powers watching in utter shock.

The Three Pure Ones' eyes went wide, especially Primordial Heavenly Lord, who prided himself on the Pangu Orthodox Lineage. His face cycled through green and white.

He usually looked down on these barbarians, and they never gave him the time of day. But now these same barbarians were calling a Western cultivator their elder?

Then what did that make him?

Di Jun and Tai Yi's hearts pounded wildly.

Just who was this Western Taiyuan? Not only was he acquainted with Nuwa and on brotherly terms with Tongtian, but now even these lawless Ancestral Witches were deferring to him?

His background and connections were absurdly solid!

Taiyuan accepted the bow with ease, inwardly thrilled, but kept his face the picture of an unfathomable elder.

"Ignorance is no crime."

Taiyuan waved a hand, his demeanor so calm and detached it was as if he hadn't nearly been ganged up on moments ago.

"I'll take this soil. If you ever have time, come visit me in the Western Lands. I've planted quite a few good things there. I'll feed you."

At the word "feed," Zhurong's eyes lit up. He was about to speak when Dijiang shot him a glare.

Dijiang, as the leader of the Twelve Ancestral Witches, might not have seen much of the world, but he was steadier than the rest.

He spoke in a rumbling voice, like rolling thunder that spread in all directions:

"Since it's the Father God's will, take it. Buzhou Mountain may be our Witch Clan's territory, but if you wish to come or take, you may."

With that, Dijiang's Sha Qi-filled eyes swept coldly over Di Jun, Tai Yi, and the others who hadn't yet left. He finally looked back at Taiyuan and thumped his chest in assurance:

"If anyone dares bully you or disrespect you while you walk the Primordial World, just speak our names!"

"Let's see who dares touch the Father God's kin!"

That last line was dripping with dominance and murderous intent.

Di Jun and Tai Yi's faces turned ashen. They snorted coldly and turned to leave.

This place was unbearable. If they stayed any longer, not only would they fail to snatch the treasure, but these barbarians would disgust them to death.

Taiyuan smiled and nodded, cupping his hands toward the Twelve Ancestral Witches.

"Well said, well said."

"I'll be heading back now. Keep in touch."

With that, he sat back down on his golden lotus and patted the still-dazed Jieyin and Zhunti.

"Let's go. What are you staring at? Time to go home and plant vines!"

The golden lotus turned into a streak of flowing light, swaggering through the path the Twelve Ancestral Witches had cleared, and sped away.

Behind him, Zhurong's booming voice carried the farewell:

"Go slowly, elder! Come play anytime!"

Only after they had completely left Buzhou Mountain's range did Taiyuan let out a long breath and quietly wipe the non-existent cold sweat from his forehead.

That whole scene just now—on the surface, steady as an old dog; underneath, panicked as hell.

If these barbarians really got it into their heads to throw a punch, even with his Glass Pure World Body, he'd probably be beaten half to death.

Luckily, the gamble paid off.

"Elder Brother..."

Zhunti only snapped back to reality now, looking at Taiyuan as if he were a true god. "You... you're really a relative of Pangu God?"

"Does that mean from now on, in the Primordial World, we can just swagger around without a care?"

Taiyuan shot him a glance, pulled a Star Grape from his sleeve, and popped it into his mouth to calm his nerves.

"Swaggering around is for crabs."

"We're scholars. We rely on reason."

"But..." A hint of a smile curled at the corner of Taiyuan's mouth. "If anyone ever refuses to be reasonable with us, don't blame us for calling over this whole family of poor relatives to 'reason' with them properly."

"Let's go! Time to head home!"

"With this vine, the foundations of our Western Lands are about to thicken by another third!"