As the war between the Wu Clan and the Myriad Races of the Primordial Era ground on, a handful of names began to rise from the chaos.
Bai Ze, Yingzhao, Ji Meng, Fei Lian, Jiu Ying, and Gui Che.
These were the apex predators of their respective tribes, top-tier experts who had once preferred the silence of their own mountains. But as the Wu Clan's shadow grew, the threat became existential. Even for these masters, mostly standing at the Early Stage of the Grand Unity Golden Immortal Realm, the ferocious Ancestral Witches were a nightmare made flesh. Against the Wu titans, they were like younger brothers facing a mountain.
One day, the Great Demons gathered in the depths of a hidden valley to discuss the coming storm.
"Fellow Daoist Bai Ze," Gui Che growled, his nine heads twitching with agitation. "You are the master of astronomy and geography. Tell us—when will these damnable Wu finally be erased from the world?"
He still felt the phantom ache in his bones from his encounter with the Ancestral Witch Qiang Liang. If he hadn't burned his essence to flee, he would have been a meal for the Wu warriors by now.
Bai Ze offered a weary, refined smile, fanning himself slowly. "The heavenly secrets are veiled in blood. With the world in such strife, the threads of fate are too tangled for even me to unpick. But instead of waiting for the Wu to fall, we should discuss how to stop ourselves from falling first."
He looked at the gathered masters. "The Twelve Ancestral Witches are peerless. They do not just fight; they use their blood to create an endless tide of Wu warriors. Unless someone can break the Twelve themselves, the Myriad Races will simply be worn down until only dust remains."
"Then what is our path?" Ji Meng asked, his voice heavy.
"The Wu Clan's slaughter harms the harmony of the Heavens," Bai Ze explained, his eyes sharp. "Even they will eventually drown in the Karma they create. Currently, they are frantic because they have no Primordial Spirits to comprehend the Saint's Dao. They expand to feed their hunger and bolster their strength, but in doing so, they create a void that we must fill."
"A void?" Yingzhao leaned in.
"The Myriad Races are powerful," Bai Ze said, closing his fan with a sharp clack. "If we stood together, we would be a match for the Wu. But we are a loose collection of sand. To survive, we need a sovereign. A great power with the prestige and strength to integrate us into a single force."
The demons went silent, the logic hitting them like a physical weight.
"Then... you do it, Bai Ze," one suggested.
Bai Ze shook his head. "My status is insufficient. None of us here possess the weight to command the respect of the entire Primordial Era. To attempt it would only breed more scheming and blood."
"Then who?"
"There are two candidates," Bai Ze said. "The first is Kunpeng. He has the prestige and the fearsome reputation. He is a titan of the North."
The demons nodded. Kunpeng was a known quantity—a terror of the seas and skies.
"And the second?"
Bai Ze paused, looking toward the zenith. "The existence that flashed across the world at Mount Buzhou. The Three Crows of the Sun Star."
"The Three Crows?" Gui Che scoffed. "I've heard the rumors—'Upper Three Crows, Lower Three Pure Ones.' It sounds like a child's rhyme. Who knows if they are truly a match for the Pangu Lineage?"
"I have investigated," Bai Ze countered. "The Golden Crow Ling Xiao repelled the Western Sages. He has the strength. He has the mystery. He lacks only the prestige of a public life."
"I support Kunpeng," Ji Meng said firmly. "He is real. He is here. The Three Crows are a myth on a burning star."
The consensus shifted toward Kunpeng, but Bai Ze was not convinced. He saw something in the solar alignment that the others missed.
"Let us split," Bai Ze proposed. "You seek out Kunpeng. Ji Meng and I will head for the Sun Star. We will ask for their intent, and then we shall decide our future."
Approach to the Zenith
The journey to the Sun Star was a trial of heat and will. As Bai Ze and Ji Meng approached the outer atmosphere of the solar orb, the temperature rose until the air itself seemed to scream.
"Fellow Daoist Ji Meng," Bai Ze cautioned, his expression grave. "When we meet them, be silent. Let me lead. This is not a mountain cave; this is the heart of the Sun."
Ji Meng nodded, his skin glistening with sweat despite his cultivation.
As they crossed the threshold of the outer flames, they hit a wall. A faint, shimmering barrier of killing intent hummed in the air, pulsing with a power that made their hair stand on end.
"A grand formation..." Bai Ze whispered, his awe overriding his caution. It was the Sun Great Array, refined and silent.
He composed himself, cupped his hands, and let his voice carry through the solar wind.
"Brothers of the Three Crows! Bai Ze and Ji Meng pay their respects!"