Dijun looked at Dongwanggong, a smile returning to his face. "Fellow Daoist Dongwanggong, this contest with the Witch Clan for Mount Buzhou is of great importance. Mount Buzhou lies at the heart of Honghuang, where fortune converges. If we can take complete control of it, it will greatly bolster the fortune of our Yao Clan."
"Our Yao Clan aspires to rule Heaven and Earth and govern all of Honghuang. The Witch Clan are nothing but remnants of Pangu. They defy the will of Heaven, foolishly trying to go against its course. Sooner or later, the Heavenly Dao will cast them aside!"
Dongwanggong was moved by those words. He understood the importance of Mount Buzhou and the ambition behind Dijun's words.
His only way out now was to cling tightly to the Heavenly Court of the Yao Clan.
"His Majesty the Demon Emperor speaks wisely." Dongwanggong hurriedly agreed. "The Witch Clan is indeed too bloodthirsty and acts against the Heavenly Dao.
"We, the orthodox Immortal Dao, should aid the Demon Emperor and stand against the Witch Clan."
He considered that if the Yao Clan succeeded in taking control of Mount Buzhou, his title as leader of the male immortals would carry more weight.
When the time came, perhaps he could secure more cultivation resources from Dijun—or get him to support the establishment of a true Immortal Court.
Dijun nodded in satisfaction. He was pleased with Dongwanggong's attitude.
"You've shown such admirable understanding of the greater good, fellow Daoist. This Emperor is gratified." Dijun smiled faintly and turned his gaze to the battlefield below. "Jimeng won't disappoint me in this battle."
He knew this was about more than a contest for Mount Buzhou. It marked the beginning of the Yao Clan's bid to assert its dominance over the Witch Clan and all of Honghuang. Mount Buzhou had to fall into the Yao Clan's hands.
The battle below had now erupted in full.
Jimeng roared as his trident churned up enormous waves and crashed down at Jumang.
The laws of water fused with Demonic Qi, forming a colossal water dragon that roared toward Jumang.
Jumang was undaunted. With a sweep of his wooden staff, countless vines interwove into a tough green barrier.
At the same time, the Witch Clan warriors behind him charged, colliding with the Demon Soldiers.
"Rumble!"
A deafening din echoed at the foot of Mount Buzhou. Radiant spells and surging witch power clashed. Flesh flew, and screams rang without end.
The once-peaceful valley became a slaughterhouse in an instant.
Eastern Emperor Taiyi watched the carnage below, excitement gleaming in his eyes.
He enjoyed this kind of direct combat. He loved using strength to conquer everything.
Dijun, meanwhile, remained composed, his thoughts hidden.
Far away, after Xuanqing finished refining the Plantain Fan from the Banana Tree, he sensed an unusual disturbance. He stopped in his tracks, his heart tightening.
The disturbance carried intense Malevolent Qi and Demonic Qi. It was clearly the sign of a great battle.
Since it was spreading over a wide area, and Xiao Hei had only just recovered from his weakness, Xuanqing took him off his shoulder.
"Xiao Hei, stay inside for now," Xuanqing gently reminded him from within the Sleeve Universe.
Xiao Hei obediently nodded.
Xuanqing released his divine sense and cautiously probed in the direction of the disturbance.
When he saw the chaotic battlefield at the foot of Mount Buzhou, he stopped short.
The Witch Clan and the Yao Clan were fighting here. And judging by the scale of it, this was no minor skirmish.
While I've been on Mount Buzhou, the Witch-Demon Tribulation has already begun without me realizing it.
Ever since Hongjun's first lecture, the Witch and Demon Races had fought several small battles. But now that Hongjun was preparing to Merge with Dao, the two sides were truly getting ready to fight in earnest.
Xuanqing's gaze quickly settled on the three figures high in the sky. Dijun and Eastern Emperor Taiyi, in particular, were impossible to miss.
This fight over Mount Buzhou has come sooner than I expected—and it's more intense, too.
He had wanted to search for the Primordial Purple Qi without drawing attention. But the fighting at the foot of Mount Buzhou would likely affect the entire mountain's energy field.
He didn't dare approach recklessly. The fighting between these powerful beings was far beyond anything he could interfere in.
Still, in the midst of all this chaos, it might be easier to fish in troubled waters.
Xuanqing withdrew his divine sense and surveyed his surroundings again. Mount Buzhou had been formed from Pangu's Spine. Its interior stretched beyond measure, and the terrain was complex. It wouldn't be difficult to move about unseen.
He decided to keep out of the fray for now.
The Witch and Demon Races could fight each other to the death. What did it have to do with him? He was just a nobody here to search for treasure.
Xuanqing chose a direction opposite the battlefield below and quietly crept away.
The Pangu Pressure here was immense, limiting the range of divine sense. That worked in his favor, providing the perfect cover.
As long as he was careful and didn't release his aura, neither Dijun nor the Ancestral Witches would likely notice him while focused on the battle.
Xuanqing moved nimbly among the mountains, without making a sound.
But sometimes, no matter how much you wanted to avoid trouble, you couldn't.
Just as he circled around an enormous cliff, several overwhelmingly powerful auras suddenly entered his range of perception.
Xuanqing froze. His scalp prickled.
He looked up sharply. On a cliff not far ahead stood ten towering figures.
Each radiated a wild, ancient, domineering aura. Their mere presence distorted the surrounding space.
At their head was a man with a human face and a bird's body, four wings on his back: Dijiang, Ancestral Witch of Space and Speed.
Beside him stood Roushou, Ancestral Witch of Metal, his body covered in bone spikes. Another figure, wreathed in flames and standing atop two fire dragons, was Zhurong, Ancestral Witch of Fire.
There was also Zhu Jiuyin, Ancestral Witch of Time, and Shebishi, Ancestral Witch of Weather...
Apart from Jumang, who was confronting Jimeng below, and one other Ancestral Witch whose whereabouts were unknown, all ten of the remaining Ancestral Witches were here!
Xuanqing's heart sank. This is bad.
What rotten luck. He'd tried to avoid the Yao Clan, only to stumble straight into the Witch Clan's lair.
The ten Ancestral Witches had obviously noticed him. Their oppressive gazes all fell on Xuanqing.
"Hm? What's an outsider doing here?"
Zhurong, the most hot-tempered of them, spoke first. His voice boomed, shaking loose stones around them. He scrutinized Xuanqing, suspicion and hostility in his eyes.
"Judging by his clothes, is he one of the Mysterious Gate?" Gonggong, Ancestral Witch of Water, snorted in disdain.
Xuanqing was at a loss. He could sense that, except for one gentle-looking female Ancestral Witch with a compassionate expression—Houtu, who regarded him with curiosity—the other nine all regarded him with deep hostility.
The Witch Clan did not cultivate their Primordial Spirits by nature, focusing instead on refining their physical bodies. They had never thought much of the Mysterious Gate orthodoxy, which cultivated the Primordial Spirit.
"Who are you? What do you want at my Father God's Mount Buzhou?"
At last, Dijiang, the one at their head, spoke. His voice was calm, yet held unquestionable authority.
The laws of space swirled around him. It seemed that with a single thought, he could cast Xuanqing into the endless void.
Xuanqing knew he couldn't show fear now.
He forced down his unease, cupped his hands to the Ancestral Witches, and managed a smile that he hoped looked harmless.
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