The Demon Emperors Retreat, Zhunti: Fellow Daoist, You Have an Affinity with My Western Sect!

Gravel!

A shrill cry rang out from the summit of Mount Buzhou. Eastern Emperor Taiyi's furious strike was met by Ancestral Witch Zhurong's fist, sending his enormous Three-Legged Golden Crow body flying backward.

Dijun suffered as well. Ancestral Witch Dijiang's unexpected punch directly blasted him away, shattering the golden feathers around him and scattering Golden Crow blood.

At their very first clash, the two Demon Emperors had suffered no small loss.

"Dijiang, this is a matter of our Demon Race. Why have you Witch Race people chosen to stick your hands into it!"

Seeing the Twelve Ancestral Witches gathered together, Dijun and Taiyi instinctively sensed trouble. Borrowing the force of the Ancestral Witches' punches, they pulled away from them.

Looking at Zhao Gongming, protected behind the Ancestral Witches, Dijun spoke coldly, his expression dark. Eastern Emperor Taiyi beside him looked no better.

Though these brutish Ancestral Witches had no Primordial Spirits, their physical bodies were simply too terrifying. Even if their cultivation hadn't been restricted, if they truly fought, who won and who lost was still uncertain.

One force shattered ten thousand laws. Their desperate attacks were like scratching an itch to the Ancestral Witches, while a single punch from the Ancestral Witches was difficult for them to bear.

"Hahaha, anyone who stands against your Demon Race is a friend of our Witch Race!"

"Only when you're unhappy can we be happy!"

Ancestral Witch Zhurong laughed heartily. The Witch Race was just like this—simple and direct. The Wu and Demon Clans were born enemies; anyone who opposed the Demon Race was a friend of their Witch Race.

Likewise, seeing Dijun and Taiyi so stifled and enraged filled his heart with delight.

The moment those words fell, all the Ancestral Witches burst into laughter. In contrast, Dijun and Taiyi's faces looked utterly dreadful, dark as water.

"Could it be that your Witch Race intends to go to war with my Demon Race?" Dijun forcefully suppressed his fury, a note of threat in his voice.

"Are you threatening us?"

The Twelve Ancestral Witches were momentarily stunned by Dijun's threat, but soon their laughter became even more unrestrained.

"Hahaha! Our Witch Race was born bearing Pangu Will. We respect neither the Heavenly Dao nor Saints—would we fear your Demon Race?"

"Come! If you've got the nerve, bring out your Demon Race and fight our Witch Race to the death!"

"Our Wu and Demon Clans are natural sworn enemies. Why not fight here today and decide who the Primordial World belongs to!"

The Twelve Ancestral Witches all took the initiative to challenge them. There wasn't the slightest trace of fear in them. Instead, they had put Dijun and Taiyi on the spot, making their expressions grow increasingly ugly.

Kunpeng, watching the battle from afar, had his eyes light up.

He dearly wished for the Wu and Demon Clans to start fighting.

If Dijun and Eastern Emperor Taiyi were both beaten to death, then he, Kunpeng, would truly be free!

Perhaps, with his speed, he could even fish in troubled waters during the great battle and gain no small benefits!

Dijun drew a deep breath before steadying his emotions. Looking at the arrogant Twelve Ancestral Witches before him, he forced an ugly smile onto his gloomy face. "Esteemed Ancestral Witches, this Great Luo cultivator killed a Demon Sage of my Demon Race. I was impulsive just now. I hope you Ancestral Witches can grant us this convenience and hand him over to us. My Demon Race is willing never to set foot on Mount Buzhou again!"

The Wu and Demon Clans were natural enemies, and both had their own designs on Mount Buzhou.

After all, Mount Buzhou connected Heaven and Earth. Its base was occupied by the Witch Race, while its summit connected to the Heavenly Court and was coveted by the Demon Race. Demon Race cultivators often traveled from the summit of Mount Buzhou to roam the mountain, seeking treasures and opportunities. This had sparked no small amount of conflict between the two clans, causing the Witch Race quite a headache. After all, this place was too close to the Demon Court; before they could arrive, those Demon Race members would have already fled back to the Heavenly Court.

In Dijun's view, his proposal was exceedingly sincere. So long as they handed over Zhao Gongming, he was willing to yield Mount Buzhou's ownership to the Witch Race!

Unexpectedly, upon hearing this—

Ancestral Witch Dijiang spoke disdainfully. "Just two mongrel birds dare prattle on about who Mount Buzhou belongs to? If you don't scram, you two mongrel birds can both stay here today!"

For a moment, terrifying battle intent emerged around all the Ancestral Witches. The origins of the Twelve Ancestral Witches were linked, while Dijun and Taiyi were likewise brimming with killing intent.

A heaven-shaking battle between the Wu and Demon Clans was on the verge of erupting.

In the end, Dijun and Taiyi still backed down. Now wasn't the time to wage a great war against the Witch Race.

With that thought, they glared viciously at Zhao Gongming, as if they wanted to carve him into their memories. Killing a Demon Sage of the Demon Race, slapping Eastern Emperor Taiyi in the face, and trampling upon the dignity of the Demon Court—

Such karma naturally wouldn't be settled with him so easily!

Today, with the Ancestral Witches protecting him, they could do nothing to Zhao Gongming. But if an opportunity arose, they would never let go of the chance to kill him!

"Hmph, we'll remember today's karma!"

Dijun and Taiyi spoke coldly, not forgetting to leave behind a harsh threat before departing.

The next moment, two golden rainbows shot toward the Heavenly Court. As for Kunpeng, seeing that things had gone wrong, he had long since fled without a trace. No one knew where he had run off to now.

"This!"

Seeing the two Demon Emperors forced back, Zhao Gongming put away the Sage Talisman in his hand.

Dijun and Taiyi were supreme Demon Emperors, the protagonists of the Lich Calamity. Killing them would be no different from punching a hole through the sky.

Moreover, a Sage Talisman like this was a life-saving item. Being able to conserve it was naturally for the best.

This time, he had killed a Demon Sage, slapped Eastern Emperor Taiyi in the face, and obtained the Binding Spell Bell. He certainly hadn't suffered a loss—rather, he had gained quite a harvest.

"Many thanks to the Ancestral Witches for stepping in and helping this poor Daoist out of trouble!"

Zhao Gongming looked at the Twelve Ancestral Witches around him, cupped his hands in salute, and offered his sincere thanks.

Judge deeds, not hearts. No matter what the Ancestral Witches had been thinking, they had ultimately helped him tremendously.

"Hahaha, it was nothing. Wait..."

Ancestral Witch Zhurong laughed heartily. The Wu and Demon Clans were sworn enemies, and Zhao Gongming had killed Demon Sage Ji Meng and made Eastern Emperor Taiyi suffer a crushing setback, so Zhurong had already felt favorably toward him.

But at that moment, he seemed to sense something. His expression abruptly changed. "Pangu Father's bloodline? You're Witch Race? No, our Witch Race has no Primordial Spirits. This, this, this?"

Ancestral Witch Zhurong was stunned. It wasn't just him—at this moment, the other Ancestral Witches also sensed the Pangu Bloodline within Zhao Gongming. All of them surrounded him, astonishment appearing on their faces.

One had to know that the Witch Race had no Primordial Spirits. Yet Zhao Gongming not only possessed Pangu Father's bloodline, but also a Primordial Spirit. This was simply unimaginable.

"Um... esteemed Ancestral Witches, this poor Daoist isn't part of the Witch Race. I merely obtained Pangu's inheritance through a fortunate coincidence, which is why I gained the Pangu Bloodline!"

Surrounded by all Twelve Ancestral Witches at once, Zhao Gongming felt immense pressure. After all, these Ancestral Witches were even more terrifying than the Demon Emperors. Fortunately, they bore no hostility toward him; instead, there was even a sense of closeness.

He relaxed somewhat and hurriedly explained with a smile.

"So that's how it is! Still, since you possess Pangu Father's bloodline, you're a brother or sister of our Witch Race. Hahaha!"

Ancestral Witch Zhurong laughed and casually patted Zhao Gongming on the shoulder. The terrifying force made Zhao Gongming bare his teeth in pain. The Ancestral Witches' physical bodies truly were too terrifying.

The other Ancestral Witches also looked at Zhao Gongming with more than friendliness now; there was a newfound closeness in their gazes.

The Witch Race had been born bearing Pangu's will and recognized only Pangu Bloodline. Since Zhao Gongming possessed Pangu Bloodline, he was one of their Witch Race brothers or sisters. Furthermore, having just killed a Demon Sage and beaten a Demon Emperor, he had also proven his strength. He had far surpassed even peak Great Witches and reached the threshold of an Ancestral Witch, making the Ancestral Witches feel even closer to him.

For such a powerhouse to emerge within the Witch Race was a good thing for the entire Witch Race.

"Haha, in that case, greetings to all my elder brothers and sisters!"

Zhao Gongming followed the current and spoke with a smile.

He felt somewhat flattered in his heart.

After all, everyone knew the Ancestral Witches were each more hot-tempered than the last, unwilling even to give Heavenly Dao Saints any face.

Presumably, it was because he had refined Pangu Jade Marrow and formed Pangu Bloodline within his body.

"Since you have a Primordial Spirit, our Witch Race Treasury does have quite a few good things. Why not come with us to Pangu Temple for a visit?"

"We can't use those things anyway. If you fancy anything, just take it!"

Houtu, the previously silent Ancestral Witch, spoke at this moment. Hearing this, Zhao Gongming's heart stirred.

The Witch Race was, after all, an overlord of the Primordial World and had occupied Mount Buzhou for hundreds of millions of years. Over such an immense span of time, how astonishing must the treasures they had gathered be?

But before Zhao Gongming could agree, a song suddenly rang out from Mount Buzhou.

Cultivate relics, gain the name Embryonic Breath; serene bliss belongs to the Western Land.

The great immortal's bare feet smelled of jujubes and pears; upon auspicious clouds, his stride was stranger still.

Twelve lotus platforms expounded Dharma treasures; by Eight Virtues Pond, white radiance appeared.

His lifespan matched Heaven and Earth—no false claim; his fortune surpassed vast waves—how could that be madness?

Purple flames rose from Eight Virtues Pond; golden moss grew upon the Seven Treasures Wondrous Tree.

Because the eastern land had many fine talents, he came to meet former ties and forge a Saint's womb.

..."

Hearing the song, Zhao Gongming's body stiffened. A bad premonition had already surfaced in his heart, but before he could recover, his vision blurred, and he found himself in an independent world.

A Twelfth-Rank Meritorious Golden Lotus floated before him. Upon the Meritorious Golden Lotus stood two figures, one tall and one short, one fat and one thin, both smiling at him.

"Fellow Daoist, you have an affinity with our Western Sect. Why not come with me to the Western Land and together seek the Dao of Ultimate Bliss?"