The Primal World.
Eons had bled into the void since Pangu carved order from the formless. Some souls had perished, yet their echoes refused to fade.
"Where am I?"
"Is this a dream?"
Lin Xiao's voice was a mere rasp, swallowed by a vast, swirling Chaos. Around him, there was nothing—no light, no sound, only an infinite, suffocating grey.
[Ding! Host consciousness detected. The Divine Rank Selection System is now online.]
[Please make your choice:]
[Option 1: Devour Dijun and Taiyi to become the sole Golden Crow. Reward: Twelve-Grade Pure World White Lotus.]
[Option 2: Evolve as the third Golden Crow. Reward: Fragment of the Jade Disc of Creation.]
[Option 3: Remain a wandering spirit and await a natural Transformation. Reward: One wisp of Primordial Violet Qi.]
The cold, mechanical chime shattered Lin Xiao's disorientation like a hammer to glass.
"Holy shit... I've transmigrated to the Honghuang?"
In his former life, he had been a cog in the 996 corporate machine, his only escape found in the digital pages of web novels. The terminology hit him with the weight of realization. This wasn't just a fantasy; it was the apex of "Hell Difficulty" worlds.
He tried to laugh, but he had no throat to produce the sound. He didn't have the luxury of existential dread. He looked at the options, his mind racing through the lore he knew by heart.
Option one was the path of a tyrant. Powerful, yes, but it meant standing alone. In a world where the Twelve Ancestral Witches shared a singular, terrifying bond, being a lone wolf was a death sentence. He wasn't some peerless martial master who could take on the world with his bare hands.
In the Honghuang, survival favored the pack. Even the Three Pure Ones—the arrogant, peerless Sanqing—had understood the value of standing as one before they ascended to Saintship.
If there were Three Pure Ones before, Lin Xiao thought, a plan forming in his nascent mind, there can be Three Crows now.
He glanced at the third option. Primordial Violet Qi was the foundation of Saintship, but without "Roots"—the innate biological grade of a being—he might manifest as something pathetic. A pig, a blade of grass, a speck of dust. In this world, the weak were not just ignored; they were erased.
"System, I choose Option 2. I'll be the third Golden Crow."
[Selection confirmed. Beginning the reconstruction of Host's Roots. This process will be extensive. Brace yourself.]
Agony, sharp and absolute, tore through the center of his being. His consciousness buckled under the weight of the transformation, and the world went dark.
A wisp of his True Spirit, now glowing with a solar hue, streaked across the sky of the Great Desolation. It plunged toward the Sun Star—the left eye of the fallen Pangu—and settled beside two existing golden spheres. There, it became a third egg, drinking deeply of the Sun's True Fire.
The world outside did not wait for him.
The era of the Vicious Beasts ended with the fall of Shenni. The Dragon, Phoenix, and Qilin tribes rose to carve the world into three bloody territories. Under the subtle, poisonous whispers of the Demon Ancestor Rahu, the sky and sea turned into a graveyard.
Then came the Dao-Demon Conflict. Hongjun and Rahu clashed until the Western spiritual veins shattered. The era of the ancient titans was ending, and the stage was being set for a new, even more terrifying Great Tribulation.
On the Sun Star, the silence finally broke.
The star, a churning sea of golden flame, trembled. Thunder that carried the weight of Divine Law rolled across the solar surface. One of the golden eggs cracked.
A figure emerged, tall and clad in armor that seemed forged from the core of the sun itself. He stood with a noble, overbearing posture, his eyes reflecting an ancient authority. In his hands, the River Chart and Luo Scroll hummed with the secrets of the stars.
"I am the Three-legged Golden Crow," the man proclaimed, his voice a Dao Sound that rippled across billions of miles. "Today I transform. My name is Dijun!"
The heavens hummed in acknowledgment. The lightning above him struck—a mere formality for one of such celestial Fortune—and vanished. Dijun looked at the two remaining eggs, his stern face softening into a smile.
"My brothers," he murmured. He raised a hand, sending two streaks of pure, clear Qi into the shells to bolster their growth.
Before long, the second egg shattered.
The youth who stepped out bore a striking resemblance to Dijun, though his features were sharper, his aura more aggressive. He wore robes of flowing gold, and above his head, the Chaos Bell tolled, its resonance stabilizing the very fabric of space.
"I am the Three-legged Golden Crow; today I transform, and my name is Taiyi!"
The chime of the bell dispersed the descending lightning tribulation with a single ring.
"What a treasure," Dijun remarked, feeling no envy, only a brother's pride.
"Taiyi greets Elder Brother," the younger sibling said, bowing with cupped hands.
"No need for such distance between us," Dijun laughed.
But his laughter was cut short by a sudden, violent upheaval. The Sun Star groaned. The spiritual Qi of the entire cosmos seemed to pivot, rushing toward the Sun in a frantic, swirling vortex.
The brothers stared in shock. Golden lotuses began to bloom in the vacuum of space, and auspicious clouds blanketed the solar fire.
"This commotion..." Dijun's eyes widened. "Third Brother's aptitude... it might actually surpass our own."
The lightning tribulation above didn't just gather; it condensed into a literal sea of purple thunder, threatening to drown the Sun Star in its intensity.
Finally, the third egg detonated. A figure stepped out from the heart of the explosion.