After Pan Xuan finished explaining his vision, the hall fell into a brief silence.
The Twelve Ancestral Witches exchanged glances, all stunned by the grandeur and far-reaching scope of his vision.
To hold a funeral for Father God.
This was something they had never considered.
Father God had split heaven and earth apart, transforming his body into all things.
For countless ages, the Witch Clan had known only to carry on Father God's final wishes, purify the Primordial World, and maintain order. They had never thought of holding a funeral for him.
But upon careful reflection, Father God had transformed himself into everything in heaven and earth. That sacrifice alone deserved the mourning of the entire Primordial World.
And establishing the Way of Burial would give the beings who died in the Primordial World a dignified final resting place, rather than leaving them to become lonely souls and wandering ghosts that dissipated between heaven and earth.
Di Jiang slowly rose, swept his gaze across the hall, and said solemnly:
"Brother Pan Xuan, our Witch Clan is duty-bound to support your proposal.
But this matter carries enormous weight. Holding a funeral for Father God to establish funerary rites requires not only unity within the Witch Clan, but also consultation with our brothers, the Three Pure Ones.
The Three Pure Ones were formed from Father God's Primordial Spirit. Without their participation, the funeral would be incomplete."
He raised his right hand, and a chaos-colored strand of power of space flew from his fingertips.
It transformed into three streaks of communication light, pierced the dome of Pangu Hall, and shot through the sky toward Kunlun Mountain.
With Di Jiang's cultivation as a Primordial Origin Golden Immortal, the message crossed hundreds of millions of miles in mere moments.
Pan Xuan nodded and said:
"You