The Demon Race Suffers a Crushing Defeat, Next Steps

Nuwa's expression was grim; she had long since realized that the warriors of the Demon Race were no match for the Witch Clan.

The Witch Clan had come prepared, while the Demon Race had been caught off guard. Most importantly, many demons scattered across the Primordial Land had not yet arrived.

In truth, only a portion of the Witch Clan had arrived, not their entire force, but the Demon Race was in an even more miserable state, with less than one in ten remaining. The Demon Race had only just been established; how could it be so easy to gather everyone?

Once the battle began, they quickly fell into a disadvantage. If they continued to fight like this, Mount Buzhou would become their burial ground.

"Retreat!"

Nuwa made the decision in an instant. In fact, she didn't even need to say it; the Demon Race was already fleeing in all directions.

"Fall back!" a great demon roared with all his might, fighting a bloody battle against the heavens as he risked his life against a powerful Great Witch. After shouting the order, he turned and ran without looking back.

One could see the soldiers of the Witch Clan, dense and numerous, carrying a majestic aura as they surged endlessly from the horizon. They were a black, oppressive mass—a vast ocean of blood-red, with towering Sha Qi!

The remaining members of the Demon Race fled in panic, possessing not a shred of fighting spirit.

The mighty figures of the Demon Race were also retreating while fighting; it was a chaotic melee.

Duke of the East took the opportunity to flee in a panic, no longer daring to boast about maintaining order in the Primordial Land.

Only by surviving would he have the chance to maintain order.

"Fellow Daoist Zhurong, we have no grudges between us. This Humble One was merely fulfilling his duty, so please, stop chasing me!"

Duke of the East fled frantically, not forgetting to turn his head to dissuade his pursuer.

"Get lost! The further you go, the better—don't let me see you again!" Zhurong let out a thunderous shout and did not continue the chase. The Witch Clan truly had no mortal feud with Duke of the East; with that time, it was better to go kill more demons.

Duke of the East ran without looking back, his face incredibly ugly, and the more he thought about it, the more bitter he felt.

The Sage had ordered him to maintain order in the Primordial Land, yet with the third sermon imminent, the Witch Clan and Demon Race were fighting like this.

When the time came, would the Sage blame him for dereliction of duty?

If that happened, let alone becoming a disciple of the Sage, it was questionable whether he could even keep his current position.

Even now, he was still obsessed with the title of Head of Male Immortals.

Duke of the East was unwilling to accept this, but for now, he had to escape first.

The Demon Race collapsed and fled along the way, their retreat shaking the entire earth with a thunderous roar.

This shocked the many mighty figures who were watching the show.

They had originally thought the Witch Clan and Demon Race would fight to a standstill, but the result was that the demons were vulnerable to a single blow.

Nuwa, who had gathered countless merits, along with Kunpeng, Fuxi, Duke of the East, Queen Mother of the West, and a host of great demons—such a lineup could not withstand the assault of the Witch Clan.

This allowed the mighty figures of the Primordial Land to witness the power of the Witch Clan once again.

"The Witch Clan is invincible. With the Twelve Ancestral Witches joining forces, unless the Sages emerge, who can stop them?"

They were filled with resentment; why was the legacy of the Great God Pangu distributed so heavily to the Witch Clan?

Did this group of savages, who knew only slaughter and destruction, truly deserve it?

"As it stands, I fear only the Three Pure Ones, who are also of Pangu's orthodox lineage, have a chance to contend with the Twelve Ancestral Witches!"

Although both previous battles had ended in the defeat of the Three Pure Ones, at least they had seen the room for the Three Pure Ones to grow.

To be able to clash with the Twelve Ancestral Witches twice and still survive was something only the Three Pure Ones could achieve.

On Mount Yujing, Laozi, Yuanshi, and Tongtian each had their own reactions upon learning of the Demon Race's defeat.

"Fellow Daoist Nuwa is still too young. How could she know that the merits of establishing the Demon Race are not so easily obtained? If even we three brothers cannot stop the Twelve Ancestral Witches, what can she do?"

Laozi said indifferently, not the least bit surprised by this outcome.