Di Jiang did not enter the Ancestral Witch Hall. Instead, he turned and followed the stone steps outside toward the rear mountains.
"Please follow me, both of you."
Qing Xuan and Qing Yi followed.
Gonggong and Zhurong walked behind them, having completely withdrawn the auras that had spilled out during their earlier clash.
Houtu and Zhu Jiuyin walked on either side of Di Jiang.
There were no Witch Tribe settlements behind the Ancestral Witch Hall. After they passed several peaks that touched the heavens, not a single living creature remained in sight.
At last, the group stopped before two dark mountain walls.
The walls rose from the earth and vanished into the sea of clouds above.
Only a narrow, elongated fissure lay between them. Its depths were pitch-black, and an occasional low rumble sent loose stones pattering down from the cliff tops.
Di Jiang stood before the entrance and looked at Qing Xuan and Qing Yi.
"Pangu Hall concerns the very foundation of the Witch Clan, so we cannot admit outsiders. Please forgive us."
"That is only right," Qing Xuan said.
Di Jiang nodded slightly and raised a hand toward the mountain's depths.
"A mark left by Father God's axe when he opened the heavens remains here. It is not a complete inheritance, but it is where we usually temper our Dao bodies. Since you wish to see Pangu's legacy, this place should not disappoint you."
No sooner had he finished than another rumble came from deep within the fissure.
A pale flash streaked through the darkness.
The mountain walls on both sides split silently, their cut surfaces smooth as mirrors. The lingering sharpness remained between the stone walls for a long time, slicing even the surrounding space with fine black scars.
Houtu walked over to Qing Yi.
"The axe