Refining the Spiritual Root

The process of refining was long and tedious. Xuanqing sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and devoted himself entirely to refining the Banana Tree. He released Xiao Hei from his Sleeve Universe, and Xiao Hei obediently lay down beside him, vigilantly observing their surroundings.

His doubled merit and luck played a huge role at this moment. Not only did it greatly enhance the efficiency of his purification divine ability, but it also caused the Heavenly Dao to silently permit, even secretly empower, his refining actions. The lotuses in the Lotus Pond seemed to respond to the call, slowly blooming. Seven-colored auspicious light scattered down, enveloping Xuanqing and the Banana Tree, forming a mysterious and harmonious scene.

Time once again lost its meaning.

Spring passed and autumn came, flowers bloomed and withered. The Tribulation on the Honghuang land shifted with the winds and clouds, and the struggle between the Wu and Yao races grew increasingly fierce. Yet atop Mount Buzhou, Xuanqing remained undistracted, immersed in the profound mystery of refining the Spiritual Root. He seemed to have turned into a stubborn stone, merging with heaven and earth, with only the faint green light proving his existence.

Several thousand years passed in the blink of an eye.

When Xuanqing opened his eyes again, his aura had merged with the Banana Tree, inseparable. The branches and leaves of the Banana Tree were even greener, and the spiritual energy it emitted was purer. The four banana leaves containing the elements of creation were now shimmering with dazzling brilliance, as if they could fall off at any moment and transform into Innate Spiritual Treasures.

Xuanqing looked at the Banana Tree before him with satisfaction. These thousands of years of hard work had not been in vain.

He slowly stood up, and an aura even more vast than before radiated from his body. His physical strength had once again undergone a qualitative leap. He felt that every move he made could draw upon the power of heaven and earth.

"Now, it's time to collect my spoils."

Xuanqing curled the corners of his mouth slightly, extended his right hand, and gently beckoned.

"Weng—"

On the Banana Tree, a verdant leaf trembled, its earth-vein patterns clearly visible. This leaf slowly detached, transforming into an ancient fan that fell into Xuanqing's hand. It was the Earth Banana Fan!

Immediately after, another fiery red leaf detached, transforming into the Fire Banana Fan.

The third was a cyan Wind Banana Fan.

Three Banana Fans lay quietly in Xuanqing's palm, each emitting its unique aura. Each one contained the ultimate power of the creation elements, with boundless might.

"Earth, fire, wind... It's a pity the Water Banana Fan hasn't matured." Xuanqing felt some regret, but then he let it go. Obtaining three Innate Spiritual Treasures was already an immense fortune. As for the Water Banana Fan, if fate allowed, they would meet in the future. He couldn't force it; he would let it be.

He stored the three Banana Fans into his Sleeve Universe, and his gaze once again fell upon the Lotus Pond.

Although he had taken three leaves from the Banana Tree, its main body remained rooted in the Lotus Pond, full of vitality. Xuanqing did not exterminate it completely.

After all, it was a Spiritual Root of merit, and he acted with restraint. Moreover, this Banana Tree had been nurtured here, deeply connected to the legacy of Father God Pangu on Mount Buzhou.

If he needed it, he could return and take the last leaf.

At the foot of Kunlun Mountain and Mount Buzhou, a murderous aura filled the air.

Jumang, the Ancestral Witch of Wood, stood tall with skin of a bluish-green, like an ancient tree with tangled roots. He had two horns on his head, long limbs, and held a wooden staff entwined with vines. His eyes were as sharp as an eagle's.

Behind him were tens of thousands of Witch Warriors clad in beast hides, their muscles knotted, holding bone blades and stone axes, letting out low growls.

Opposite Jumang, the Demon Saint Jimeng wore dark battle armor, surrounded by water vapor. He had horns on his forehead, a ferocious face, and held a trident in his hand, his gaze fierce. Behind him were also tens of thousands of Demon Soldiers, varied in form, with Demonic Qi soaring to the sky. Two massive auras faced off.

Jumang's gaze swept contemptuously over Jimeng, then looked at the Demon Soldiers behind him. "Dijun and Taiyi, those two feathered beasts, sent just you, a Golden Immortal Realm Demon Saint, to die here? It seems they truly look down on my Wu race!"

Jimeng's face flushed red with rage upon hearing this. "How dare you! A mere Ancestral Witch dares to insult my Demon Emperor, Your Majesty! Today, I will make you understand that taking this area doesn't require His Majesty to act!"

He stepped forward fiercely, and the laws of water condensed into countless ice spikes, suspended in the air, radiating a chilling cold. "I alone am enough to slaughter all you barbaric witches right here!"

Jumang smiled disdainfully, tapped the ground lightly with his wooden staff, and countless vines burst forth, instantly entangling those ice spikes, emitting a sizzling sound of melting.

"Arrogant talk! Today, my Wu race will reclaim the land of Father God! If your Demon Race is dissatisfied, then come at us!" The Witch Warriors behind him shouted in unison, their voices shaking the valley.

High above, Auspicious Clouds swirled with auspicious energy.

Dijun wore the Nine Dragon Emperor Robe and an imperial crown, his face majestic. He stood with his hands behind his back, a deep light flickering in his eyes. Eastern Emperor Taiyi stood beside him, his Golden Crow aura blazing, surrounded by the phantom of the Chaos Bell, appearing arrogant and unruly.

Not far from them, Dongwanggong, dressed in white, had the bearing of an immortal. A few scattered immortals stood beside him, their expressions respectful. Dongwanggong looked at the tense battlefield below, his brow slightly furrowed.

He turned to Dijun, cupped his hands, and asked, "Demon Emperor, Your Majesty, the battle below is urgent. The Ancestral Witches of the Wu race are formidable in combat. Sending only one Demon Saint, Jimeng, to face them—isn't that a bit overconfident?"

Dongwanggong's position was rather awkward at this moment. Hongjun Dao Ancestor had appointed him as the leader of male immortals, which sounded lofty, but he had neither an Innate Supreme Treasure to suppress his luck nor a powerful race to support him. Although he had many scattered immortals under his command, most acted independently, making it hard to form a united force. He had an empty title but no real power; his only reliance was cooperation with the Demon Race's Heavenly Court.

Dijun's face was calm, but a flicker of disdain passed through his eyes. Though outwardly polite, he inwardly looked down on Dongwanggong, this figurehead "leader of male immortals."

"Daoist Dongwanggong, you worry too much," Dijun said flatly, with a hint of unquestionable confidence. "Although Jimeng is a Demon Saint, his skills are extraordinary and more than enough to handle this. Besides, this is just a small probe, not a decisive battle."

He paused, then continued, "My Demon Race warriors are all brave and skilled in battle. How can they be compared to those Wu brutes who only know brute force? This battle is merely to let them know that Mount Buzhou is, after all, the territory of my Demon Race!"

Eastern Emperor Taiyi, impatient by nature, couldn't stand Dongwanggong's "boosting the enemy's morale." He snorted coldly and cut in, "Hmph! Those Wu fools, besides their strong bodies, what other skills do they have? One Golden Immortal of my Demon Race can match several of their Great Witches! Ancestral Witches? They're just relying on their innate advantages. Without my Demon Race's cultivation path, they'll be eliminated sooner or later!"

He glanced at the scattered immortals behind Dongwanggong, his tone dripping with obvious contempt. "As for those scattered immortals... they hide in their cave abodes cultivating on normal days, and when battle comes, they can only watch from the sidelines. My Demon Race doesn't have so many idle people!"

Dongwanggong's face changed slightly, but he couldn't vent his anger. Although Eastern Emperor Taiyi's words were arrogant, they did speak some truth. The scattered immortal faction indeed lacked organization, making it hard to contend with large races like the Demon and Wu.

He could only force a dry laugh to cover his embarrassment.

Seeing this, a flicker of amusement passed through Dijun's eyes. He knew Taiyi's words were a bit excessive, but they had achieved the goal of putting Dongwanggong in his place.

"Taiyi!" Dijun scolded lightly, but there was no reproach in his tone. "Daoist Dongwanggong is also concerned about the battle situation. Why be so harsh?"

Eastern Emperor Taiyi snorted and said no more, but his eyes still held defiance.