Get Back to Your Purple Cloud Palace

Dongwang Gong established the Immortal Court and likewise received considerable merit as a reward.

Unfortunately, he was no different from Dijun and the others.

With the road ahead unclear and unable to break through his shackles, he remained at the Zenith Heaven Golden Immortal realm.

The Immortal Court had only just been founded when the Demon Court came killing its way over.

Above the East Sea, wild winds abruptly rose and colossal waves surged skyward. Dijun and Taiyi arrived with the Demon Court's hundreds of millions of troops, stirring even the heavens into change.

Dongwang Gong led the immortals in grim readiness. The island-protecting immortal light of Penglai Immortal Island rose into the air, while countless immortal arts and magical treasures soared skyward, confronting the Demon Court's army.

"Dijun—"

"Kill!"

Dongwang Gong still wished to say something, but Dijun cut him off with that single cold word: "Kill."

"Dong!"

The bell chime resounded throughout the entire Primordial World, and Penglai Immortal Island's protective grand formation shattered in an instant.

Countless demon soldiers of the Demon Court, led by Dijun, Taiyi, and the Ten Great Demon Commanders, charged straight into Penglai Immortal Island.

A great battle was on the verge of erupting.

Spells and divine abilities intertwined. The towering waves were forcibly vaporized, the might of innate spiritual treasures swept in every direction, and the Dao rhythms of Zenith Heaven Golden Immortals clashed without cease.

The two sides fought from the sea surface to the Ninth Heavens, then fell from the Ninth Heavens into the deep sea. The mountains and landmasses beneath the ocean collapsed completely, and countless innate spiritual veins were destroyed.

The fighting was extraordinarily brutal, a life-and-death struggle in which neither side would rest until the other was dead.

Yet looking over the whole battle, the Immortal Court was ultimately inferior to the Demon Court.

Whether in spiritual treasures, divine abilities, or the number of peak great powers, the Immortal Court led by Dongwang Gong was far beneath the Demon Court led by Dijun and Taiyi.

To put it harshly, in the Demon Court's eyes, the Immortal Court was nothing more than a rabble.

Yet neither the Demon Court nor the Immortal Court noticed that while they were fighting with great fervor, a hidden force was quietly taking shape within the Primordial World.

The one leading this force was none other than Patriarch Minghe of the Blood Sea.

When Wuchen had clashed with Saint Hongjun in the Primordial World, Minghe had recognized him at once—the figure he could never forget, even in death.

But the other party's strength had filled him with despair.

At that moment, the conviction for revenge in his heart had nearly been extinguished completely.

It was only Hongjun's words—"Those who destroy the Witch Clan may gain an opportunity to become a Saint"—that rekindled his hope and showed him a chance for revenge.

He was determined to obtain that opportunity to become a Saint.

But Minghe stood alone. He had no powerful innate spiritual treasure at his side, no top-tier blessed land and grotto-heaven gathering cultivators, and no vast racial foundation.

Wanting to destroy the Demon Court, Immortal Court, and Witch Clan all by himself was simply as difficult as ascending to heaven.

Sitting alone in the depths of the Blood Sea, he pondered back and forth. At last, a flash of insight struck him. He thought of a way to break the deadlock and swiftly put it into action.

The Primordial World was boundless, and it never lacked three-without beings like himself. There were quite a few among the three thousand guests of the Purple Cloud Palace alone.

Minghe did not believe they felt no covetousness toward the opportunity to become a Saint.

And if they wished to seize that opportunity, it was clearly not something one person could accomplish alone. Only by joining forces with other great powers would they have a sliver of a chance.

Minghe traveled throughout the Primordial World, persuading those scattered innate great powers one by one.

His proposal rested only on fairness.

They would establish no orthodoxy and have no leader. After victory was achieved, they would determine the final owner of the opportunity to become a Saint through internal contests.

Those who joined the alliance had to swear an oath to the Heavenly Dao and strictly abide by this principle.

This plan instantly moved countless innate great powers who fought alone and longed to compete for the chance to become Saints. One after another, they joined the alliance Minghe had formed.

They concealed themselves without acting, quietly watching the struggle between immortals and demons.

Just as Minghe and the others waited to reap the fisherman's profit, a dragon's roar suddenly resounded throughout the Primordial World. A terrifying pressure of laws bore down on Dijun and the others, forcing them all to cease fighting.

That dragon's roar lacked the lofty clarity of ordinary dragons. Instead, it carried the vast, weighty desolation of ancient ages, as though it had existed since the very beginning of heaven and earth.

Now, awakened in a single instant, it shook the universe.

The sea instantly heaved up raging waves a hundred million zhang high. The seawater that had been vaporized by the battle rolled back in torrents, and a dragon shadow stretching ten thousand miles slowly opened its eyes from the ocean depths.

As its eyes opened and closed, its left eye became the sun and its right eye became the moon. Light and shadow intertwined, directly freezing the time and space of the entire Penglai battlefield.

He was a great power of the Dragon Race who had survived the Dragon-Han Calamity.

Torch Dragon.

The River Chart and Luo Writing in Dijun's hand suddenly trembled violently. Taiyi gripped the Primal Chaos Bell, his expression sinking as the pressure around him was firmly suppressed by this supreme aura of the Dragon Race.

Even the bell waves of the Primal Chaos Bell froze in midair, unable to ripple outward another inch.

The Ten Great Demon Commanders stood rigid all over. An instinctive reverence surged from the depths of their bloodlines. Though they were the Demon Race's peak fighting force, they could not summon even the slightest will to resist.

Dongwang Gong and the immortals of the Immortal Court also stopped at once, staring in shock at the dragon shadow in the deep sea. They only felt that its aura was ancient beyond measure, far surpassing every Zenith Heaven cultivator present.

Having witnessed the battle between Wuchen and Hongjun, they immediately judged the other party's strength.

Below Saints, above Zenith Heaven.

"The East Sea is not a place where you may run wild. Get out of the East Sea at once."

Torch Dragon's voice came from the ocean depths, carrying endless majesty and unquestionable dominance, as though Dijun and the others had never entered his eyes at all.

Dijun's expression turned sinister. Forcibly raising his cultivation to resist Torch Dragon's pressure, he shouted in a deep voice, "I am contending with Dongwang Gong for supremacy in the Primordial World. What does it have to do with the Dragon Race?"

"I? Heh!"

Torch Dragon gave a contemptuous laugh. The space around Dijun instantly collapsed, and countless fragments of space transformed into a tornado of sharp blades, wrapping Dijun within.

"Puff, puff, puff..."

The spatial blades were unstoppable. Dijun's Dao body was on the verge of being utterly annihilated.

"Big Brother!"

"Your Majesty!"

Taiyi, Bai Ze, and the others were aghast. They wished to intervene, but the laws of the world had nailed them firmly in place, leaving them unable to move.

At that moment, an even more majestic pressure descended from the heavens.

The space fragments around Dijun instantly vanished without a trace. The collapsed space and the frozen time all returned to normal.

"Big Brother!"

"Your Majesty!"

Taiyi, Bai Ze, and the others rushed before Dijun. Seeing Dijun already covered in mangled flesh and blood, with his aura weakened to the extreme, they were furious beyond measure.

They wanted to avenge Dijun, but they simply lacked the strength.

Even Taiyi did not dare act rashly at this moment.

"Buzz!"

Saintly pressure arrived alongside the appearance of a figure.

Not a trace of emotion showed on his face, yet he carried an innate, supreme majesty. His lowered eyes seemed to be looking down upon all living beings.

"Torch Dragon..."

"Hongjun!"

Before Hongjun could finish speaking, another voice cut him off.

"Get back to your Purple Cloud Palace!"

The speaker did not reveal himself. His voice echoed through the air like a reverberation.

Though his tone was calm, it revealed an unquestionable tyranny, along with a faint hint of threat.

"Wuchen!"

Hongjun turned his gaze toward Abbot Island, no longer possessing his earlier calm.

His Saintly majesty had been challenged, and a trace of anger involuntarily surfaced on his face, even carrying a hint of savagery.

When a Saint grew angry, heaven and earth responded.

Wild winds abruptly rose, the seawaters churned, and thunderclouds stretched across hundreds of millions of miles of the void. Purple lightning rolled within them, while deafening thunder resounded throughout the entire Primordial World.