Chapter 111: The Ancestral Witch Takes Action

In this treasure-seizing event at the Northern Abyss, the Witch Clan had only dispatched the two Ancestor Witches, Gonggong and Qiangliang, to participate. At this moment, seeing more than twenty quasi-saints gathered, the two Ancestor Witches also felt that Elder Dijian was excessively cautious and underestimated the gravity of the situation. Given the current circumstances, not only were they two Ancestor Witches at a disadvantage, but even if all the Twelve Ancestor Witches were present, they would have little confidence in controlling the scene.

“There are rumors in the Primordial Era of the emergence of the God-slaying Spear; could it be that the news is true?” With so many quasi-saints suddenly appearing, countless beings in the Northern Abyss and Northern Sea were instantly stirred. At this moment, they almost fully believed the false information spread by Qingxu. It must be understood that quasi-saints stand at the very pinnacle of the pyramid in the Primordial Era—they are legendary figures, rarely witnessed by any living being. This rare gathering of over twenty quasi-saints had only occurred a few times since Pangu’s creation of the world.

Compared to the countless beings who were excited and thrilled to witness the quasi-saints, many shrewd ones immediately turned their backs and distanced themselves from this place of conflict. The legendary quasi-saints, the most potent among them, had converged in such numbers. Could there possibly be no battle? And could ordinary beings endure the aftermath of a battle between quasi-saints? Even a Great Dao Golden Immortal, if accidentally infiltrated by yin-yang energy, would face grave peril. Under such circumstances, quite a number of wise individuals chose to leave. Missing out on the excitement was a minor concern; losing one’s life would be an irreversible regret.

As the quasi-saints gathered, those familiar with each other began exchanging pleasantries.

Kunpeng had been staring intently and fiercely at Hongyun Daoist since his arrival, his eyes flashing with cold light and unhidden venomous resentment. Other quasi-saints were well aware of this animosity—anyone who had entered the Purple Cloud Palace would know of the enmity between Kunpeng and Hongyun.

It was said that when Hongjun Daoist attained sainthood and inaugurated the Purple Cloud Palace, preaching to the myriad beings of the Primordial Era with three thousand powerful figures gathered together, it was a celebrated event of its time. But during this, there was one incident: upon entering the Purple Cloud Palace, the three thousand guests found seven meditation seats, the purpose of which was unclear. However, it was assumed that sitting on these seats brought benefits, as they were at the front and most suitable for listening to teachings. Naturally, the three thousand guests competed fiercely for these seats. Since no one was allowed to use divine powers or Taoist techniques inside the palace, the contest was based on speed. Eventually, the Three Purities secured the first three seats, while Nuwa, with the help of her elder brother Fuxi, claimed the fourth seat by her own strength. Unfortunately, Fuxi missed the chance. Afterwards, Hongyun and Kunpeng took the fifth and sixth seats respectively, while the last seat was taken by the Ancestor Witch Houtu.

Seeing the seven meditation seats occupied, others sighed and accepted their fate, feeling no chance. Coincidentally, the last two of the three thousand guests were the Daoists Jiejin and Zhunti. Arriving late, the seat dispute had already ended. Both felt the seats were beneficial but were too late to claim one. Jiejin accepted this quietly, but Zhunti lamented bitterly, evoking great pity from Hongyun Daoist. Zhunti foolishly gave his seat to Jiejin, and Kunpeng, pressured, yielded his seat to Zhunti but harbored resentment against Hongyun. This might have been insignificant, if not for Hongjun’s declaration after three lectures that these seven meditation seats were saintly positions beneath the Heavenly Dao. The three thousand guests were stunned.

Hongyun and Kunpeng deeply regretted their choices, but the matter was settled, and no remedy was possible. Due to this, Kunpeng utterly hated Hongyun, feeling that without Hongyun’s foolishness, he too could have claimed a saintly seat.

Losing a saintly seat so close at hand was unbearable for anyone, especially for Kunpeng, who was petty and vindictive by nature. He might not repay kindness, but he never forgot a grudge.

Zhenyuanzi and Hongyun naturally sensed Kunpeng’s hatred and resentment, sharing a bitter smile but remaining unafraid. Though their cultivation was slightly inferior to Kunpeng’s, two against one was not without hope.

“Since ancient times, the spiritual treasures of heaven and earth are taken by those with affinity and virtue. The Witch Clan ignores the Heavenly Dao, does not cultivate the primordial spirit, and has committed numerous sins—unworthy indeed. Clearly, you lack affinity for these spiritual treasures. We ask the two Ancestor Witches to understand the situation and leave swiftly,” sneered the Grandmaster of the Underworld River. While others feared the Witch Clan, he was unbothered, for with the Netherworld Blood Sea at his back, even saints would find it difficult to challenge him.

“Friend of the Netherworld River, your words are true. You Witch Clan members lack primordial spirit and cannot refine spiritual treasures. Why make a fuss?”

“Well said!”

“Exactly. The Witch Clan does not cultivate the primordial spirit, has no affinity with the Great Dao, nor with spiritual treasures. This is fate and destiny. You'd better not defy Heaven, or great calamities will befall you...”

With one statement, the Grandmaster of the Underworld River pushed the two Ancestor Witches to the very forefront of the storm. Yet the two Ancestor Witches were not conceding—they acknowledged their lack of primordial spirit as fact but held their own thoughts:

“Even if we cannot use it, we cannot let others have it. The God-slaying Spear’s power rivals innate spiritual treasures; using it to slaughter Ancestor Witches is not impossible. Such a threat must be eliminated if possible.”

“Hahaha, utterly ridiculous, Qiangliang! Your words only invite mockery! The seven saintly seats—three Purities, Nuwa, Jiejin, and Zhunti—have all attained sainthood one after another. And Houtu? Hmph! Dreaming of attaining sainthood without primordial spirit? A saintly seat wasted.” Kunpeng scoffed disdainfully.

“Seeking death!” Hearing Kunpeng’s words, Gonggong and Qiangliang were instantly enraged. The Twelve Ancestor Witches shared a deep bond; how could anyone speak so? Moreover, Houtu’s delayed attainment of sainthood was also a sore point for them. Kunpeng’s words were like salt on their wounds, sparking fury. Without further ado, they each drew their divine weapons to attack Kunpeng. Gonggong wielded a pair of white jade hooks, crystalline and cold as frost, while Qiangliang brandished a pure black wolf-tooth club, bristling with deadly intent.

The Witch Clan could not refine magical treasures, but they had developed an alternative: the forging of witch instruments. Using Nine Abyss Divine Fire to melt materials, combining millions of witch curses with their innate essence blood, nurturing with the earth’s turbid energy, and finally investing significant time to harmonize the instrument with their consciousness, allowing effortless control. The process was arduous, and given the Witch Clan’s physically robust bodies—ordinary magical treasures and spiritual treasures shattered with a mere wave—few witches made these instruments.

That Gonggong and Qiangliang wielded witch instruments showed their power was far greater than barehanded attacks.

It should be understood that the Twelve Ancestor Witches’ sheer bodily strength rivaled innate spiritual treasures. By comparison, the witch instruments Gonggong and Qiangliang used likely approached the power of innate supreme treasures.

Kunpeng had anticipated the Ancestor Witches might act when mocking them, but he was unafraid. In the past, he would not have dared be so brazen, but now, with Dijun and Taiyi, and his own strength, the three of them together would not fear the two Ancestor Witches. If they still feared them, he might as well find a tofu block and bash his head in.

Though secretly resenting Kunpeng’s provocation, Dijun and his brother had no choice but to assist.

“At this moment, confronting Ancestor Witches may be premature, but it will make a name for us and greatly aid the unification of the Demon Clan,” Dijun pondered.

At this point, even if Dijun wished to keep a low profile, it was impossible. Kunpeng had provoked the Ancestor Witches; could he abandon Kunpeng? That would render all previous efforts futile, make himself a laughingstock of the Primordial Era, and invite the wrath of the arrogant Ancestor Witches. Regardless, taking action was advantageous.

Seeing the two Ancestor Witches strike, Kunpeng and his two companions prepared to fight back. The other quasi-saints did not intervene, adhering to the saying: "None of my business, so I hang up high."

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Boom!

The jade hooks flashed like meteors, swift and fierce, carrying a chilling cold that could freeze skin instantly, annihilating the primordial spirit. Their hardness and sharpness were terrifying. With Gonggong’s full power, the attack struck Kunpeng’s body—only a shadow remained as Kunpeng had already evaded. At the same time, his Ice Rule manifested, barely resisting the ferocious blow from Qiangliang’s wolf-tooth club, which shook even the Ice Rule itself with its tremendous force.

Unbelievable!

Only the power of a Rule can counter a Rule, yet Qiangliang’s raw strength shook it. The quasi-saints were astonished, and even the Great Dao Golden Immortals gaped in disbelief.

This was eye-opening—who could have imagined that brute strength at a certain level could shake the Laws?

Surviving Qiangliang’s strike, Kunpeng’s face paled, feeling his internal energy running wild, his organs burning. In just one round, he suffered a moderate loss.

Seizing the advantage, Qiangliang and Gonggong continued to pursue Kunpeng. Seeing this, Kunpeng grew fearful, no longer daring to fight head-on. He relied on astonishing speed to evade, but could only defend himself, unable to injure his foes. Prolonged evasion was disadvantageous, and his situation worsened.

“I didn’t expect Ancestor Witches to be so terrifyingly powerful. Facing them head-on, I can only drag things out with speed. But escaping is still easy enough.”

Just when Kunpeng was trapped with no way out, Dijun and his brother also acted. They unleashed the Hetu and Luoshu talismans and the Chaos Bell to confront the two Ancestor Witches, simultaneously deploying two flame rules. Together with Kunpeng’s Ice Rule, they suppressed the two Ancestor Witches.

The Hetu and Luoshu transformed into two verdant and clear streams, swirling toward Gonggong, while the Chaos Bell rippled with sound waves, assaulting Qiangliang.

Facing these treasures, even the two Ancestor Witches dared not underestimate them. They abandoned the chase after Kunpeng and turned to confront their new opponents. Kunpeng quietly exhaled, then turned to join the fray, ready to avenge past grievances.