Ancestral Witch Blood Essence, Pan Xuan Takes Form

Pan Xuan felt the drop of blood essence merge into his body.

A warm current flowed through his entire body, nourishing his soul and flesh as it slowly fused with the righteous aura and the mysterious yellow aura of merit within him.

He was deeply moved, his voice even choking up. "Sister Houtu, blood essence is precious. You..."

Houtu shook her head, her tone gentle yet firm. "We are kin—why distinguish between yours and mine? Besides, it is only a drop of blood essence. Your sister will recover after cultivating for a few epochs.

"If you truly wish to repay me, then take form soon and let your sister see what you look like."

With that, she turned and left, leaving behind only her gentle silhouette.

Pan Xuan stared blankly as she departed, his heart filled with countless emotions.

He knew just how precious Ancestral Witch blood essence was.

Every drop contained an Ancestral Witch's source power. Losing even one required an immense span of time to recover.

Houtu had given him her blood essence. Such kindness weighed heavier than Mount Tai.

Yet what he had not expected was that this was only the beginning.

After the second round of lectures ended and Di Jiang finished his final lesson, he too forced out a drop of blood essence and sent it into Pan Xuan's body.

That drop contained the power of space and radiated a profound glow as deep as the starry sky.

After merging into Pan Xuan's body, it made his comprehension of space several degrees clearer.

In the third round, Zhu Jiuyin likewise forced out a drop of blood essence, one that contained the power of time.

It was as though a miniature river of time flowed within it. Once it merged into Pan Xuan's body, his perception of time became even sharper.

After that, at the end of every round of lectures, one Ancestral Witch would force out a drop of blood essence and send it into Pan Xuan's body.

Twelve rounds of lectures, twelve drops of Ancestral Witch blood essence—all of them merged into Pan Xuan's body.

The twelve drops of Ancestral Witch blood essence gathered within him and slowly fused, transforming into an unimaginably vast power.

That power contained both Di Jiang's power of space and Zhu Jiuyin's power of time.

It also held Zhu Rong's power of fire and Gong Gong's power of water, as well as Xuan Ming's power of ice and Houtu's power of earth...

The twelve kinds of source power intertwined, echoing with Pan Xuan's own righteous aura, Pangu's heaven-opening merit, and the mysterious yellow aura of heaven and earth, forming an unfathomably profound balance.

Pan Xuan could feel his cultivation rising at a visible rate.

The mysterious yellow aura enveloping him grew denser and heavier, as though he might break free of his cocoon at any moment.

With the enhancement of the twelve drops of Ancestral Witch blood essence, his comprehension of the laws of heaven and earth also advanced by leaps and bounds.

He was moved beyond words.

The Twelve Ancestral Witches were each among the most supreme beings in heaven and earth. How precious was their blood essence?

Even the loss of a single drop required long ages to recover.

Yet they had given him their blood essence without hesitation, all so that he could take form sooner.

Such affection weighed heavier than Mount Tai and ran deeper than the sea.

Pan Xuan took a deep breath and buried that gratitude deep within his heart.

He knew that he was still too weak to repay the kindness of these brothers and sisters.

But he secretly swore that one day, he would become strong enough—strong enough to protect those who sincerely cared for him.

He would definitely change the Witch Clan's fate.

Whether it was the Witch-Demon War or the fall of the Ancestral Witches, he would stop them both.

He would ensure that the Witch Clan stood forever unshaken in this Primordial World!

Pan Xuan closed his eyes. Within that dense mass of mysterious yellow aura, his dragon body coiled into a ball as he began refining the twelve drops of Ancestral Witch blood essence with all his strength.

His aura slowly climbed within Pangu Hall.

It grew stronger and more vigorous, like a primordial egg being nurtured in chaos, awaiting the moment it broke from its shell.

Outside Pangu Hall, the Twelve Ancestral Witches stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the golden light within the hall grow brighter and more brilliant, their eyes filled with anticipation.

"What do you think Brother Pan Xuan will look like after taking form?" Zhu Rong asked, scratching his head as flames danced at his fingertips.

For once, Gong Gong did not snap back at him. Instead, he thought seriously for a moment, a contemplative look appearing on his face.

"Since he was born from righteous aura, he will surely have the appearance of an upright gentleman. He should be fair and clean, refined and scholarly—not as rough and rugged as us."

Xuan Ming said coldly, "No matter what he looks like, he is our brother. As long as he can take form, it is a good thing."

Houtu smiled faintly and said softly,

"That is right. No matter what he looks like, he is our brother.

"He calls us elder brothers and elder sisters, so we will protect him for life."

After a moment of silence, a rare gentleness appeared on Di Jiang's resolute face as he suddenly spoke.

"I have a feeling that Brother Pan Xuan's arrival may change many things."

Zhu Jiuyin's murky eyes opened slightly as he gazed toward the golden light deep within Pangu Hall. His voice was distant and profound, as though it had crossed an endless river of time.

"I saw it too... but I could not see clearly. It was too vague.

"His future is shrouded in a light I have never seen before. Even I cannot see through it.

"But one thing is certain: his appearance is a tremendous opportunity for the Witch Clan."

Houtu said softly, "No matter what he brings, he is our brother. That will never change."

The Ancestral Witches exchanged glances, determination in all their eyes.

After absorbing the Twelve Ancestral Witches' blood essence, Pan Xuan's chance to take form had arrived.

The mass of mysterious yellow aura had become so dense it seemed impossible to disperse, like a golden sun suspended in the center of Pangu Hall, illuminating the entire grand hall as brightly as day. The twelve drops of Ancestral Witch blood essence slowly fused within Pan Xuan's body, intertwining with his righteous aura, heaven-opening merit, and the mysterious yellow aura of heaven and earth to form an unfathomably profound balance. That power surged and churned within him like the force of chaos at the dawn of creation, nurturing some entirely new existence.

Pan Xuan's consciousness sank into the ocean of that power. He felt every inch of his flesh and every wisp of his aura undergoing a complete transformation. Under the cleansing of that power, his Nine-Clawed Golden Dragon body gradually solidified and sublimated, as though it were about to break free from the cocoon of mysterious yellow aura.

Suddenly, cracks appeared in the layer of mysterious yellow aura surrounding him. At first, there was only one, as thin as a strand of hair. But soon, more and more appeared, spreading ever more densely like a spiderweb until they covered the entire mass of aura.

A realization rose within Pan Xuan—his chance to take form had come.

He drew a deep breath. His dragon body suddenly shuddered, and the mass of mysterious yellow aura exploded with a thunderous roar, turning into golden light that filled the sky like countless golden butterflies dancing through Pangu Hall. Within that golden radiance, a Nine-Clawed Golden Dragon soared into the air, its body radiating righteous aura and the light of mysterious yellow merit. It circled through the air three times before the golden light abruptly drew in, and a figure slowly stepped out from within it.

That figure was Pan Xuan.

With Pangu Hall concealing him, the commotion of his transformation was completely isolated within the ancient hall. The outside world sensed not the slightest anomaly, and naturally, no heavenly punishment was drawn. Quietly and smoothly, he completed his transformation from dragon form into a Dao body.

Pan Xuan stood within Pangu Hall and lowered his head to look at his hands—long, fair hands with distinct knuckles, as though carved from fine jade. He slowly raised his head, his gaze sweeping across the immense Pangu Hall as an indescribable emotion rose in his heart. From this day onward, he was no longer a Nine-Clawed Golden Dragon that could only curl up within the mysterious yellow aura. He was now a true living being with a Dao body.