With a thud, Hongjun dropped to his knees in pain. Looking at the Twelve Ancestral Witches, his eyes brimmed with tears as he muttered over and over, "No essence blood... there's none left... Qin Fen, that bastard, didn't leave me even scraps!"
He knelt? The Three Pure Ones had the illusion that their eyes were playing tricks on them. How had Hongjun knelt down?
He really had knelt. Hongjun felt utterly humiliated. He had just said all that arrogant crap—what was he supposed to do now? He had thought he had stumbled onto a lucky break. Better late than never; as long as the Twelve Ancestral Witches were all right, the overall situation was settled. He could still turn the tables on the Heavenly Dao.
But when he saw the Chinese Zodiac, Hongjun became depressed. No, he was crying himself blind. There was no restroom here, or he would have slipped into one long ago to cry by himself in peace.
Seeing the current scene, how could Hongjun not understand? Qin Fen had used the arrangement he had left behind back then. In order to suppress a trace of an Ancestral Witch's remnant soul, he had set up the Heavenly Stellar Formation, using the Human Tribe's Fortune and Vow Power, along with the power of the stars, to conceal the Ancestral Witches' divine fiendish aura.
And now? The two great formations had merged. Fortune and divine fiendish aura had combined, inseparable from one another. The Chinese Zodiac was part of the Heavenly Dao and represented the Human Tribe's seasonal divisions. How could it possibly allow him to absorb it?
That was not even the end of it. The key was that he owed Qin Fen a life. Now Big Chef had settled the Karma, trading the lives of the Twelve