The Wu Clan, Pangu Temple.
The Twelve Ancestral Witches had also received the intelligence from their scouts.
"What? The Sanqing followed Nuwa to the Yao Race?" Zhu Rong, the God of Fire, roared the moment he heard the news. He glared with furrowed brows, his fury so intense that the ornate throne beneath him nearly vaporized.
"Three shameless old things! We didn't go looking for them, yet they have the audacity to deliver themselves to our door, joining the Yao to oppose us? They are seeking their own graves!"
Zhu Rong's voice shook the entire hall, sending rolling waves of scorching, crimson Qi through the air. The heat was terrifying.
"Hehe. It is unlikely the Sanqing have officially 'joined' the Yao, but it is a certainty they intend to oppose us!" Candle Nine Nethers noted coldly, a terrifying, murderous intent surging within his eyes.
"No matter. Since the Sanqing seek death, we shall simply accommodate them. We were destined to strike them eventually; since they have come to us, it saves us the trouble of hunting them down!"
Di Jiang spoke in a deep, heavy voice, effectively issuing the final verdict on the matter.
The Ancestral Witches were filled with a righteous indignation. In truth, they had been so preoccupied with the Yao Race over these millennia that they had largely forgotten about the Sanqing. They hadn't held them in any special regard.
Yet, unexpectedly, the Sanqing had taken the initiative to interfere, entangling themselves with the Yao. This was a clear signal of collusion against the Wu Clan.
"Strike! Every tribe is to be mobilized! Leave nothing in reserve!" Xuan Ming commanded, her eyes like frozen blades.
The other Ancestral Witches voiced their immediate agreement. Born for battle, they found no reason to retreat at a time like this.
"To war!"
Di Jiang stood up and issued the command. Two simple words, yet they were saturated with an inexhaustible, primeval Evil Qi.
Rumble!
On this day, the normally tranquil region surrounding Mount Buzhou was engulfed by the rising smoke of total war.
Chaos billowed and surged as the ancient Temple—perched at the edge of the boundless firmament—seemed to awaken. It stood there, unyielding through the eons, a permanent fixture of the world.
The Pangu Temple erupted with a boundless divine light, appearing as if it were suspended within the Chaos itself. It proclaimed its presence to the heavens, a clear declaration of the Wu Clan's battle intent and their absolute defiance.
The living beings of the Eastern Honghuang raised their heads and were instantly shaken. The landscape around Mount Buzhou had become a vast, majestic theater of war, radiating a monumental pressure.
The Great Witches of the various tribes led countless millions of their kin toward the front lines. Even the Ancestral Witches themselves were beginning to move.
The thunderous sound of war drums and the desolate blare of horns echoed through the void. A cataclysm was breaking out. One by one, the tribal hosts surged outward, racing toward the border between the Wu and Yao territories.
"The true war has arrived. From the look of the Wu Clan's mobilization, they are emptying their hives. After fighting for countless ages, is the final winner finally about to be decided?"
A great power whispered from atop an ancient immortal mountain, gazing out over the boundless land. The air of slaughter and blood permeated the Nine Heavens; the atmosphere was so oppressive it made breathing a chore.
Wooo... Accompanied by the desolate horn-call, one could vaguely see the horizon covered by a dense, endless carpet of Witches. Some stood ten thousand feet tall, weaving through the bloody mist and dark shadows as they marched toward the edge of the world. They were an ocean without a shore.
"Peace is a memory once more. I have a premonition that this clash will exceed everything that came before. It will shake the foundations of the world."
The living beings along the path of the march lamented. They seemed to catch a glimpse of a dark future. The struggle between the Wu and Yao had lasted for eternity.
Judging the present by the past—referencing the bloody resolution of the Dragon, Phoenix, and Qilin conflict—it was clear that a final, decisive battle for dominance was inevitable.
The Sun Star.
Ling Xiao had also detected the Wu Clan's movements. It wasn't that his senses were exceptionally sharp; it was simply that the Wu Clan's momentum was too massive, vibrating through the heavens and the entire universe.
This was the posture of a total, suicidal outpouring!
"The outcome of this particular Lich clash... is difficult to predict."
Ling Xiao mused. Previously, he felt the result was a foregone conclusion, but with the Sanqing standing on the side of the Yao, a new variable had entered the equation.
While the Sanqing were nothing to him, they were a significant factor for the Wu Clan. Three Two-Corpse Quasi-Saints, each armed with an Innate Supreme Treasure—barring any accidents, those three could hold their own against the Twelve Ancestral Witches.
That is, assuming the Ancestral Witches didn't have a hidden trump card.
"The way the Wu Clan is radiating such a ferocious Aura... they certainly don't look like a group without a back-up plan," Ling Xiao smiled. As someone who "knew the script," he understood exactly what the Witches' greatest reliance was.
Counting the years, the Twelve Capital Gods Fiend Formation was likely about to manifest.
If his guess was correct, the Sanqing were in for a very bad day.
The billions of Witches surged majestically toward the Yao territory. Simultaneously, the Yao Race mobilized their own grand army—from every direction, in the sky and on the ground, their pressure dominated the firmament.
"Kill!" An Ancestral Witch let out a long roar, exhaling a thunderclap that stretched for millions of miles. It tore through the Void Realm like a light of creation, indestructible, instantly pulverizing entire swathes of the Yao host.
Such slaughter was horrific and bloody, but to these two races, it was the only reality. Their hatred was eternal; there was no room for mercy.
"You seek death!" Ying Zhao, the Demon God, roared. He revealed his true form: a human face on a horse's body, tiger-striped and winged. He brandished a Hun Yuan Iron Staff, appearing exceptionally savage.
In a heartbeat, he collided with Qiang Liang.
"A defeated dog! You still dare to bark?" Qiang Liang's voice exploded like a thunderbolt, shaking the eight directions. Several lesser demons were literally scared to death by the sound, losing their spirit and fleeing in terror.
Thud!
Their collision caused the Void Realm to detonate, the sound echoing for hundreds of millions of miles. With the clash between Qiang Liang and Ying Zhao, the war officially began. The grand armies of both sides slammed into each other, entering a state of total, chaotic slaughter.
"Kill them all!" The roar of battle shook the heavens. It was a life-and-death struggle.
Splurt!
Blood geysered into the air, staining the long sky. The battle was beyond fierce; the firmament appeared to be cracking, the earth was splitting, mountains were being leveled, and rivers were being vaporized by the heat of the conflict.
The shockwaves of battle Qi caused the world to tremble violently; it felt as if the very ground was going to sink.
"Who dares to face me!" Xing Tian, the Great Witch, brandished a massive axe. Standing a hundred thousand feet tall, his every movement caused the surrounding Yao host to fall like autumn leaves. This divine might was reminiscent of Pangu opening the heavens within the Chaos!
He had entered a killing frenzy.
His heroic aura pierced the Nine Heavens!
"Hmph! I shall be the one to kill you!" Gui Che stepped through the void, brandishing a Purple-Gold Square Heaven Halberd. His pressure was like a rising sea as the halberd carved through the firmament, unleashing an eternal celestial light intended to obliterate Xing Tian!
"You nine-headed dead bird! Who gave you the courage? Have your heads finally grown back?" Zhu Rong, the God of Fire, manifested his true form. He raced from a distant sector of the battlefield to intercept the strike.
Along the way, the shockwaves of his passage crushed countless Yao soldiers. The divine fire on his body was like a hundred thousand volcanoes erupting simultaneously. As he crashed into the Yao army, the air was filled with agonized shrieks as countless enemies were incinerated.
"Accursed creature! I will end you today!" Gui Che shrieked, swinging his halberd in a murderous arc.
In a split second, the two were locked in a death-match.
At this moment, across the boundless land, the crimson color of blood was everywhere. The roars of the dying shook the heavens, and the battle-cries reached the highest vaults of the sky.
Slaughter filled the air, a tragedy that would shock the underworld. Blood flowed in rivers for thousands of miles, and corpses littered the land as far as the eye could see.
The thick, red clouds covered most of the Primordial World, looking like a spreading stain of fresh blood—ghastly and eerie.
A dense mass of living beings engaged in a life-and-death struggle, their blood painting the rivers and mountains red.
The battle reached a fever pitch. The titans of both the Yao and Wu had all entered the fray. Across the Central Honghuang, the battlefield continued to expand outward like a growing infection.
The Ancestral Witches who had been commanding from the rear began to arrive one by one. Like Chaos Demon Gods descending upon the world, they roared at the Nine Heavens!