Outside Mount Sumeru, Zhunti swept his sleeve, and figures appeared in the air in an instant.
They were the members of the Witch Clan whom Zhunti had abducted earlier.
They were all rather dazed. Many were even still dreaming, their drool pooling on the ground.
At the sight, Zhunti could not stop the corners of his mouth from twitching.
At that moment, he suddenly felt thankful that Goumang, Rushou, and Tianwu had come. Otherwise, he truly would not have known what to do with these witches.
They were a whole damn bunch of wooden blockheads!
He, a mighty Quasi-Saint, had personally recited scriptures to convert them. He could have converted even a stone.
Yet these people had treated his chanting as a lullaby.
And each had slept more soundly than the last.
What the hell...
The corners of Jieyin's mouth twitched uncontrollably as well.
What the hell kind of people were these?
Only the Twelve Ancestral Witches could handle them. Anyone else would have found them too much to bear.
Jieyin and Zhunti were utterly sick of them and wanted them gone as soon as possible, but Goumang, Rushou, and Tianwu were overjoyed.
They had finally recovered their clansmen!
After a brief spell of bewilderment, the witches saw the three Ancestral Shamans, Goumang, Rushou, and Tianwu. A jolt ran through them, and they hurriedly dropped to their knees.
"We pay our respects to the three Ancestral Witches!"
In an instant, a vast, dark mass of kneeling figures covered the ground outside Mount Sumeru.
"There is no need for this. The one you should thank is not the three of us, but Fellow Daoist Daochen."
Rushou looked toward Daochen and spoke in a solemn voice.
"Daochen?"
The witches froze.
Though their cultivation was low, they had seen Daochen from afar during