In the days that followed, Mu Chen became a poop scooper.
Only, what he cared for were not ordinary pets, but three young phoenixes left behind by the Phoenix Race.
He had named them, too.
Little Seven, Little Eight, and Little Nine.
Very simple.
It suited Mu Chen's temperament.
Every ten years, Mu Chen had to wake up once and use his divine abilities to throw their droppings into the sea.
Fortunately, keeping pets added a little interest to his long, monotonous life.
A hundred thousand years.
Just like that, they slowly slipped away.
Over those hundred thousand years, the antagonism between the Witch Race and the Demon Race grew increasingly severe.
Di Jun and Eastern Emperor Taiyi of the Demon Race established the Heavenly Court atop Mount Buzhou and recruited countless living beings of the Primordial World into the Demon Race.
Snakes, rats, centipedes, and so on-they turned none away.
For a time, the Demon Race became the largest race in the Primordial World, with all four seas falling within its sphere of influence.
Only the Witch Race could contend with them in the Primordial World.
Yet because their numbers could not match the Demon Race's, they were also beginning to fall behind.
As for the Human Race, it was still growing, exceedingly insignificant and fragile.
Mu Chen was like a spectator, quietly watching the two races clash.
In his view.
Apart from their numbers, the most fundamental reason the Witch Race was losing ground in this struggle was... a lack of unity.
The Twelve Ancestral Witches had formed from Pangu's flesh and were born with unrivaled physiques.
In an age when Sages did not appear, they were already the ceiling of combat strength.
If the twelve of them were just a little more united and charged straight up Mount Buzhou to slaughter Di Jun and Eastern Emperor Taiyi, the Demon Race would have no game left to play.
However...
Each of the Twelve Ancestral Witches possessed innate divine abilities and had a proud, untamable disposition. None would submit to another, and they were nothing like the united Demon Race.
As time went on, this discord became increasingly apparent.
Later, the fire god Zhurong and the water god Gonggong fell out and came to blows.
At that point, the Witch Race's internal discord thoroughly marked its descent into a disadvantageous position.
"This won't do. I'll have to find a way to help the Witch Race later."
Mu Chen muttered quietly.
After all, the Witch Race would ally with the Human Race in the future, while the Demon Race treated humans as food.
Whether by sentiment or reason, as the Human Race's current top dog [boss] in cultivation, Mu Chen ought to lend a hand.
Having made up his mind, Mu Chen slowly entered seclusion again.
Go on and fight.
I've almost finished refining Pangu's Essence Blood.
In another fifty thousand years, I'll have my Samadhi True Fire, too.
It had to be said that, of Mu Chen's current offensive methods, only the True God Lightning Control Method was anything worth looking at.
If he obtained the Samadhi True Fire, then combined with his tough physique, his combat strength would surely increase considerably.
The days slowly passed just like that.
Fifty thousand years passed in the blink of an eye.
The bloodshed and hostility in the Primordial World grew ever heavier, reaching the point of eruption.
The Witch Race and the Demon Race tore away all pretense and began fighting in earnest.
And after those fifty thousand years, Mu Chen had finally refined a drop of Pangu's Essence Blood.
His unrivaled physique had reached a terrifying degree.
Even his cultivation speed had increased dramatically.
As a result, he finally broke through from the Taiyi True Immortal Realm to the peak of the Taiyi True Immortal Realm.
He was only a sliver away from reaching the Primordial Unity Mystic Immortal level.
And if he could continue cultivating and attain the rank of Daluo, he would count as a renowned powerhouse in his own right even in the Primordial World.
On this day.
Mu Chen sat cross-legged atop Hong Yun, cultivating quietly.
Now that he had become a human, he looked like a delicate-featured, handsome youth, with long hair spilling loosely over his shoulders. Dressed entirely in white, he looked especially otherworldly.
Though he looked too frail to withstand the wind.
His physique was actually probably only a little inferior to those of the Twelve Ancestral Witches.
Just then.
Three young phoenixes spiraled down from the sea of clouds and called softly toward Mu Chen.
Mu Chen opened his eyes and looked.
The laughter of the Demon Race and the terrified wails of humans rose from the sea below him.
Seven or eight flood dragons of the Demon Race were stirring up wind and waves on the sea.
They surrounded a massive seagoing ship on all sides.
Inside were ordinary people of the Human Race.