Ling Feng's expression grew solemn. Looking straight at the Twelve Ancestral Witches, he said gravely, "What I'm about to tell you concerns the survival of the Witch Race. I hope you, my brothers and sisters, can shield this place from heavenly divination..."
Seeing how serious he was, the Twelve Ancestral Witches grew solemn as well. They exchanged glances, then all unleashed their magic at once, sealing off Pangu Hall.
"Go on. No one can hear us now. If you can't give us a perfect explanation, brat, you'll be carried out of here today. I'll let you experience what a big sister's care feels like."
Xuan Ming waved his fair-skinned fist, his threat unmistakable. Clearly, this fierce little tigress was itching to beat him up.
Ling Feng's lips twitched at the sight. Then he said, "Hongjun didn't step in to stop the war between the Witch Race and the Demon Race for the sake of the Primordial World's inhabitants. Otherwise, he would have intervened long ago. So why did he wait until the Demon Race was on the verge of annihilation before appearing?"
"Isn't that obvious? That old Daoist Hongjun favors the Demon Race!"
Zhurong, the most blunt and hot-tempered of them all, roared out his opinion. From his furious expression, he was clearly enraged by Dao Ancestor Hongjun's actions.
The other Ancestral Witches felt the same. In their eyes, the Demon Race had been on the brink of destruction, and the Witch Race's domination of the Primordial World had been within reach. Yet Hongjun's appearance had inflicted heavy losses on the Witch Race and allowed the Demon Race to escape, giving them a chance to sweep back in. This had infuriated the Twelve Ancestral Witches.
"Is that what all of you think?"
Ling Feng looked at the Twelve Ancestral Witches