The battlefield was vast beyond measure, populated by countless Living Beings, with corpses piled upon one another, stretching across hundreds of millions of miles.
The Twelve Ancestral Witches were gathered, their million-foot-tall frames standing like heavenly pillars at the center of the conflict.
Nuwa, Kunpeng, Fuxi, and the other titans of the Yao Race were all present, facing their enemies across the endless Void Realm in a lethal confrontation.
"Hehe... after all these years of fighting, it is finally time to erase you from the face of heaven and earth."
Di Jiang spoke with a chilling indifference. His Aura was monumental, carrying a boundless majesty. Wherever he stood, the space seemed to twist into a world of its own—mysterious and unpredictable.
His thunderous, overbearing words caused many of the Yao host to feel a surge of dread, yet there were those who remained unfazed, their tongues as sharp as ever.
"Di Jiang, it is said that you Witches are Innate incomplete and cannot discern the secrets of heaven. It seems the rumors are true; you stand on the brink of death yet still dare to mouth such grand delusions."
Kunpeng let out a resonant laugh, his sound waves sweeping through the Nine Heavens, pulverizing a swathe of the nearby Wu army into dust.
"Beast! Does your skin itch for another beating? Have the feathers I plucked from your body finally grown back?" Candle Nine Nethers spoke with a cold, ghostly tone. He struck back with the power of time, withering the lives of a massive section of the Yao army.
At their Realm, every gesture was a catastrophe of global proportions.
These words struck a nerve, unveiling a shameful secret from the past. Hearing this, the expressions of several Great Yao turned peculiar. It was evident that in their previous encounters, Kunpeng had been no match for Candle Nine Nethers.
Kunpeng was seized by a mixture of shock and fury, his face turning incredibly dark. He let out a cold sneer. "I did not expect that the naturally brain-dead Wu Clan would learn to tell jokes."
"Since you insist on boasting, I shall personally deal with you shortly!"
He refused to admit to the past, countering with a newfound confidence. He had a reason for this: when he had been "plucked" in the past, he had not yet slain his second corpse. That version of him didn't count. Now that he had achieved that milestone, his strength had reached a whole new level.
He was the "New Kunpeng"; the one who had been plucked was a ghost of the past.
"Hehe... I shall be happy to grant that request!" Candle Nine Nethers let out a cold laugh. Divine light swirled within his eyes, but he did not rush to strike, for his Eldest Brother had not yet finished speaking.
"Nuwa, at this stage, there is no need to keep things hidden. Tell the Sanqing to show themselves."
Di Jiang scanned the Yao camp, speaking with a calm, almost amused smile.
At his words, Nuwa, Fuxi, and the other Yao experts were taken aback, a strange sensation rising in their hearts.
Since the Ancestral Witches knew the Sanqing were here, why were they still so composed? Why did they still maintain this air of fearing nothing under heaven?
Was it a genuine lack of intellect, or did they possess the absolute confidence to withstand the combined might of the Yao and the Sanqing?
Before they could ponder further, the three figures who had been hiding in the shadows manifested. Three monumental Auras surged toward the heavens, blanketing the world.
In that instant, every Living Being on the field felt a physical shudder—an instinctual, soul-deep dread from their Divine Soul.
Even the common warriors of the Wu Clan felt an inexplicable surge of fear.
This was a suppressive pressure. The Sanqing had released their full power to announce their arrival.
The appearance of Laozi, Yuanshi, and Tongtian brought a wave of relief to the Yao host. Knowing these titans were on their side, the demons grew even more convinced that defeat was impossible. This battle would surely end in a total, absolute victory.
"Di Jiang, knowing we were here and yet still daring to come... your courage is truly commendable."
Laozi spoke with a light smile, his eyes shimmering as he appraised the Twelve Ancestral Witches.
"Hehe, why would we not dare? You were losers then, and you are losers now. If we could defeat you once or twice, we can surely do it a third time," Di Jiang replied with a sneer of utter contempt.
In truth, the other Ancestral Witches felt the same way—some were even more arrogant, holding the Sanqing in zero regard.
"Hmph!"
Yuanshi let out a cold snort, reiterating his lifelong appraisal of the Witches: "A collection of Innate incomplete, pitiable things. You are fools who live in the past, unable to discern the mandate of heaven. How could creatures like you possibly fathom the depth of our magic power?"
His rebuke was scathing. His view of the Witches had never wavered; even if the Twelve Ancestral Witches were to kill him one day, he would die believing they were nothing but uncultured savages.
The Great Yao silently gave Yuanshi a thumbs-up in their hearts. None of them would ever dare to insult the Ancestral Witches to their faces with such vitriol. The Sanqing truly were exceptionally bold.
"Yuanshi! Have you forgotten how I thrashed you before? You useless waste—we intended to spare your life, yet you run back here to seek your own death."
Qiang Liang shouted, bringing up old grievances. He had indeed beaten Yuanshi, though it had been a group effort by the brothers. In his mind, however, his brothers' victory was his victory; there was no need for such petty distinctions.
"Noisy!" Yuanshi shouted softly. Chaos Qi rippled around his form as the Pangu Banner materialized in his hand. With a single shake, massive fissures appeared in the Void Realm, and a boundless Divine Might descended, suppressing the ancient land and the billions of souls upon it.
Even the great powers watching from hundreds of millions of miles away felt the crushing weight of the Pangu Banner, their hearts seized by terror.
"This battle... I fear it will truly shatter the heavens and the earth. It is unavoidable," a great power atop an ancient mountain sighed to himself.
The sea of blood churned as a crimson shadow transformed into an Innate Dao Body, standing upon the surface of the waves. The endless tides dared not approach his person. Styx watched the battlefield in the Central Honghuang, his eyes flashing with an intense, burning light.
"Fight... go on, fight. It is best if you both suffer... if you all die... hehe..." Styx whispered to himself, his words fragmented, followed by a series of eerie, cackling laughs.
He held no interest in the war between the Wu and Yao. His only interest was in that particular bird of the Yao Race.
If Kunpeng were to be wounded or killed in the carnage, then Styx's opportunity would finally arrive.
For countless millennia, Styx had never abandoned his covetous desire for the Primordial Violet Qi.
Because Kunpeng had been hiding within the Yao headquarters all these years, Styx had found no opening for a successful ambush.
But now, the opportunity had finally presented itself. As long as the Wu and Yao tore into each other—and as long as Kunpeng was caught in the crossfire and severely wounded—Styx could strike from the shadows.
At this thought, Styx could no longer restrain the pounding of his heart. He felt the Violet Qi beckoning to him. He could wait no longer.
This was a once-in-ten-thousand-eons opportunity. If he didn't strike now, would he wait until Kunpeng achieved Sainthood?
With this resolve, Styx moved. He stepped off the Sea of Blood, slowly vanishing into the boundless, crimson mist.
At the Western Mount Sumeru, the Two Sages of the West nearly burst into laughter upon learning of the battle. The ancient war between the Dao Ancestor and the Demon Ancestor had detonated the Spiritual Veins of the West; if this Eastern war did the same, then everyone would be equally impoverished.
The Two Sages shared a knowing smile, perfectly prepared to enjoy the show.
Simultaneously, at the Zifu Island, the Immortal Court was also mobilizing. The East King Duke and the Queen Mother of the West led their host of immortals toward the Central Honghuang.
In an instant, the winds of change swept across the world.
The confrontation between the Wu and Yao had reached its breaking point. Finally, the tension snapped, and the Great War began!