On Mount Kunlun in the Primordial World, Jieyin, Zhunti, Laozi, and Yuanshi sat facing one another, while Tongtian sat alone on another meditation cushion.
At that moment, the expressions on Jieyin's, Zhunti's, Laozi's, and Yuanshi's faces were all rather grim.
The Human Race Calamity had ended, and the Witch-Demon Clans had fought. Even Fuxi had fallen in the conflict.
Daochen had appeared as well.
But instead of attacking the Witch Clan directly as they had imagined, he had recalled the Demon Race of the Heavenly Court. With Daochen's intervention, the Witch-Demon Clans, who had been fighting so fiercely, had immediately ceased hostilities.
It had all ended before even the Twelve Ancestral Witches, whom they had been eagerly awaiting, appeared.
The entire Primordial World seemed to have returned to a long-absent peace.
Yet this very peace left Jieyin, Zhunti, Laozi, and Yuanshi unable to sit or lie at ease.
They knew that, given the Twelve Ancestral Witches' temperaments, they could never let the matter rest so easily.
And Daochen's stance remained unclear.
That was the root of their worry.
"Buzz!"
A low humming sound rang out.
Light flashed on Mount Kunlun, and a figure clad in golden robes slowly emerged from the void.
"Daochen!"
At the sight of that figure, the expressions of Jieyin, Zhunti, Laozi, Yuanshi, and even Tongtian shifted slightly.
One moment, they had been thinking about Daochen; the next, he had appeared.
What did this mean?
Had he come to settle accounts with them?
After all, in this Kalpa, not only had the Human Race suffered devastating casualties, but the Witch Clan had suffered heavy losses as well. Even the Demon Race of the Heavenly Court under Daochen's command had lost many Greater Demons and Demon Generals.
These were the foundations Daochen had built up over hundreds of