Primordial Era: The Dao Wasn't Finished Yet, and the Ancestor Witches Had Already Become Saints

Dayi frowned. "But it's been a hundred thousand years. What kind of secret art requires the Twelve Ancestor Witches to cultivate together for a hundred thousand years and still not finish?"

Kuafu spread his hands and shrugged. "Then I wouldn't know! If I did, I wouldn't be a Great Witch, would I? You say..."

Before Kuafu could finish, a tremor rang out from the Ancestor Witch Hall.

Kuafu's heart jolted!

This damn mouth of mine—how dare I spout whatever comes to mind?

The Ancestor Witches must have heard that. I'm done for!

The tremors grew stronger, soon spreading across the entire ancestral land of the Witch Tribe, and even shaking the whole of Buzhou Mountain.

A rumbling roar quickly echoed throughout the Primordial Era.

This commotion naturally alarmed the various great powers of the Primordial Era.

Countless divine senses instantly swept toward Buzhou Mountain, fixing their gaze on the Witch Tribe's ancestral land.

Then, the doors of the Ancestor Witch Hall swung wide open.

An ancient, yet not decayed, aura drifted out.

It instantly enveloped the Witch Tribe's ancestral land and the entirety of Buzhou Mountain.

As this aura spread, every great power spying on Buzhou Mountain felt a sharp pain in their Primordial Spirit. Their divine senses could no longer hold, dissipating on the spot.

Among them were those whose cultivation was insufficient. For these people, it was far more than just a sting in their Primordial Spirit.

The vast majority had their Primordial Spirits shattered instantly, dying on the spot.

The remaining few were lucky enough to preserve a fragment of their Primordial Spirit.

Of course, these people might have preferred to die like the majority.

Having a remnant Primordial Spirit meant they could not move or speak, but sensations like pain and consciousness still lingered.

If luck was on their side, fine. But if fortune turned against them and some beast found them...

That meant enduring endless agony until their body completely died, allowing their Primordial Spirit to finally dissipate.

Countless great powers, feeling the sting in their Primordial Spirits, were terrified.

They dared not spy again, let alone venture to Buzhou Mountain to investigate.

If a mere backlash from the aura could wound their Primordial Spirits, what would happen if they went in person?

Did they not know how to spell "death"?

Countless great powers restrained their auras, shrinking silently into their caves.

They had no idea where this powerful aura came from. After all, if the sky fell, the tall ones would hold it up.

These people didn't know, but some did.

Take Hongjun, for instance, quietly contemplating the Jade Disc of Creation, making his final preparations to become a saint.

The moment this aura appeared, Hongjun trembled, his eyes snapping open. Then, his entire body uncontrollably began to shake.

Sweat visibly streamed down his forehead!

He naturally knew where this aura came from.

In fact, no one in the entire Primordial Era was more familiar with it than him.

It was Pangu!

Hongjun was terrified. The scene of Pangu battling the Gods and Devils back then was vivid in his memory.

Nearly three thousand Gods and Devils, no matter how strong, could not withstand a single axe strike from Pangu. None were his match.

It was utterly terrifying!

And the appearance of this aura—did it mean Pangu had left a contingency back then, and was now about to awaken?

If so, why bother becoming a saint or merging with the Dao?

Submitting obediently was the wise choice!

Otherwise, death would be far from pleasant.

Chapter 7: Oh My Heavens! The Goddess Has a Child

While Hongjun was gripped by extreme terror, others were exceptionally joyful.

Kunlun Mountain.

At the Three Pure Ones' dojo, three figures—one old, one middle-aged, one young—stood in the square.

Gazing toward Buzhou Mountain, their faces were full of delight.

They were Taishang, Yuanshi, and Tongtian.

"Father God! It's Father God's aura!" Tongtian looked at his two elder brothers, unable to contain his joy.

Yuanshi rolled his eyes and pursed his lips. "We can feel it ourselves! You don't have to shout so loud!"

Taishang said nothing, watching his two younger brothers, stroking his beard with a faint smile.

Tongtian looked in the direction of Buzhou Mountain, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Should we head to Buzhou Mountain immediately to take a look?"

Having said this, he turned to his two elder brothers, his face full of anticipation.

"If it truly is Father God awakening, we ought to stand guard before him."

Taishang and Yuanshi found Tongtian's words quite reasonable and both nodded in agreement.

But just then, the primordial aura suddenly vanished without a trace.

The three of them were momentarily stunned, then quickly came to terms with it—even if this really was Father God awakening, it was likely only a brief stirring of consciousness.

He was still far from true revival.

Taishang looked at his two younger brothers and said thoughtfully, "We are currently in a critical period of cultivation. How about we wait until this period passes before heading to Buzhou Mountain to investigate?"

This time, Yuanshi and Tongtian both nodded, agreeing with the proposal.

The world all said that the Three Pure Ones were Pangu's Primordial Spirit split into three—the so-called One Qi Transforms into Three Pure Ones.

Now, if Pangu truly were to revive, it would be hard to avoid the Three Pure Ones merging back into one Qi.

Logically, the three of them should be distressed.

So why were they showing such joy?

In truth, just as with the Ancestor Witches, this tale of One Qi Transforms into Three Pure Ones was also a misunderstanding.

When Pangu fell, he exhaled three pure breaths and twelve turbid breaths.

The twelve turbid breaths absorbed the heart's essence blood and transformed into the Twelve Ancestor Witches.

The three pure breaths carried the merit of creation and transformed into the Three Pure Ones.

At the root, it had nothing to do with Primordial Spirit or essence blood.

They were all, in essence, Pangu's offspring. If their father was about to awaken, why would the children grieve?

On the other side.

Hongjun's robes were completely soaked through, as if he had been pulled from the water.

At this moment, he was slumped on the ground, gasping heavily for air.

Suddenly, that aura dissipated in an instant.

Everything returned to calm, as if it had never happened.

Hongjun took a moment to recover, then cautiously sensed the surroundings once more.

Only then did he finally breathe a sigh of relief, the heavy stone in his heart finally settling.

"It seems it was a false alarm!" Hongjun wiped the cold sweat from his brow, resuming his lofty bearing, and said smugly, "I knew nothing would happen! Pangu died long ago; this was merely the remnants of his aura."

Mm... now that it was over, he could boast as much as he liked.

At the time, it had all happened so suddenly that Hongjun had momentarily panicked.

After all, the pressure from that aura was overwhelming, and besides, he knew better than anyone how powerful Pangu was.

Now that the aura had faded, Hongjun had come to his senses—Pangu could not possibly still be alive.

He had personally witnessed Pangu, exhausted, crash to the ground.

The reason he dared make such a judgment was all because of the Primordial Spirit, the foundation of all living beings.

Pangu's Primordial Spirit had long since split into three, becoming the Three Pure Ones.

So as long as he controlled these three, even if Pangu had left behind some contingency to revive himself, without his Primordial Spirit, no matter how heaven-defying his abilities, he could never threaten him.

Like all other beings in the Primordial Era, Hongjun believed the Three Pure Ones were Pangu's Primordial Spirit.

He had seen these three before—their auras, their bearing—while not exactly identical to Pangu, each of them did carry some of Pangu's traits.

And so, Hongjun was utterly convinced that the Three Pure Ones were Pangu's Primordial Spirit split into three.

In truth, the fault lay with him as well. Back then, he had stood on the same side as Pangu.

You see, Hongjun's true form was a Chaos Earthworm—just an ordinary worm.

It was understandable to rely on the strong; dependence and reliance were fine, but at least you should stay loyal to the end, right?

When Pangu was splitting the heavens, if Hongjun had even exerted a tenth of his strength to help, Pangu would not have died from exhaustion.

But that wasn't the only despicable thing Hongjun did. When he saw Pangu crash to the ground, this earthworm spirit didn't lend a hand; instead, he packed up all of Pangu's Magic Treasures and fled immediately, afraid that Pangu's fall might implicate him.

And even then, Hongjun acted as if he were in the right.

Pangu was about to die, and I, Hongjun, am Pangu's closest brother. Naturally, it falls to me, his good brother, to keep these treasures safe.

If I didn't collect them in time, what if they got damaged?