Chapter One Hundred: The Witch-Slaying Sword Is Forged, and the Primordial Lord Meets the Earth Mother

When Nuwa appeared, the demonfolk were instantly gripped by overwhelming terror. Some among them had once glimpsed her from afar and knew that she was the first Great Dao Saint in the primordial world to attain Primordial Unity, and also the Mother Saint of the human race.

Having been caught slaughtering humans today, they feared there would be no escape. They hurried to their knees and bowed their foreheads to the ground. “We greet Saint Nuwa. We beg the Saint to spare our lives!”

Meanwhile, the surviving humans in the ancestral land, seeing their mother saint arrive, all fell flat and wept bitterly.

“Spare you? Hmph. Not a chance.”

It was Chen Xing, who had just arrived.

For the moment, Chen Xing paid no attention to the demonfolk kneeling on the ground. He walked to Yun Ke, took his daughter carefully into his arms, and asked her gently, “Mom, are you all right?”

Yun Ke shook her head and said, “Luckily you arrived in time. I’m fine.”

Only then did Chen Xing look down at the daughter in his arms. Strangely enough, the little one, who for years had never let him hold her, was not struggling at all. Instead, she was staring at him with a pair of bright, black eyes, showing no trace of fear despite having just lived through a brutal battle.

Looking at the cherished daughter in his arms, who after tens of thousands of years still had not grown up, Chen Xing felt a headache coming on. By rights, after so many millennia, the child should at least have changed somewhat, shouldn’t she? Yet this little creature had stubbornly remained as if frozen at the age of three, leaving him utterly speechless.

Still, no matter what, the fact that she was allowing him to hold her today was a pleasant surprise. Chen Xing could not help but tighten his embrace a little. It had not been easy. For tens of thousands of years, his daughter had never once truly allowed him to hold her. How wonderful this feeling was now.

As Chen Xing carried his daughter toward Nuwa, the ones who had butchered the human race earlier had already been reduced to ashes by Nuwa.

“First, return to Fangzhang Isle. There are matters that need to be settled,” Chen Xing said calmly.

Nuwa silently nodded, lifted a hand to collect the remaining humans, then supported Yun Ke as her own figure and Chen Xing’s disappeared from the ancestral land of the human race.

Emperor Jun had finally gathered enough human blood, but he had paid a terrible price. Countless members of his clan had been slain by Zhu Feng, the second sect master of the Dao Gate, and two of the Ten Great Demon Marshals had also perished. This filled him with both shock and rage.

Had he not feared the two beings on Fangzhang Isle intervening, he would have long since led the army to ambush Zhu Feng.

Yes, only an ambush. To attack the Dao Gate? He had not yet become mad enough for that. After all, a Saint sat there in command. This only made Emperor Jun feel even more stifled, and it deepened his desire to attain Primordial Unity as soon as possible.

Decades passed. After exhaustive effort and countless schemes, Emperor Jun and Taiyi finally succeeded in forging the Slaughter-Witch Sword.

What delighted Emperor Jun even more was that the demon empress Xi He had given birth to the demon race’s crown prince for him. A single pregnancy had borne ten sons, all of them Golden Crow in form. At last, the demon race had heirs.

Emperor Jun ordered the entire heavenly court to celebrate, with revelry lasting a hundred years.

As the demon emperor, Emperor Jun naturally understood that the demon race was now teetering amid storm and danger. To protect his own descendants from being caught in the turmoil, once the celebrations ended, he secretly sent the ten demon princes away by himself to the hidden demon realm of Tang Valley, where he also laid down restrictions to prevent outsiders from entering.

Within Tang Valley stood a congenital spirit tree, the Fusang tree, one of the ten great innate spirit roots. It could help a being of innate supreme yang attain perfection, and it was the finest place for the young Golden Crows to cultivate.

Most importantly, this hidden place was known to no one but himself and Taiyi. Not even Xi He knew of it.

Yet Emperor Jun could never have imagined that a Saint would intervene and ultimately drive the demon race into an abyss of utter ruin.

As for the witch clan, although they had clashed with the demon race many times over the years, under Houtu’s influence they had not acted nearly as recklessly as in the original course of events.

Moreover, because Pangu, transformed into an ordinary witch clan member, had been quietly guiding the witch people for years to avoid enmity with the human race, the witch clan did not exploit the human race’s calamity by kicking them when they were down. In this way, much of Pangu’s legacy was preserved.

On this day, Houtu was cultivating in the Houtu Palace.

By now she had long since brought her spirit soul into sync with her physical body, reaching the late stage of the Quasi-Saint realm. Her combat strength even far surpassed that of her elder brothers, who were also late-stage Quasi-Saints.

If enough fortune should come her way in the future, there was even a sliver of possibility that she might attain the Great Luo Golden Immortal of Primordial Unity and Boundless Freedom.

Just as her mind was fully focused, and she was comprehending the highest principles of heaven and earth through her spirit soul, a voice suddenly resounded within her soul: “Houtu! Come to the chaos and meet Me!”

Houtu’s entire body shook. To her horror, she found that within her spirit soul there now stood a colossal figure, as if capable of pressing down heaven and earth, gazing at her with gentle eyes.

Houtu was stunned. “Father Pangu!” she cried out.

The giant figure nodded and said warmly, “The time has come. The witch clan’s life and death now hang by a single thread. Come at once to the chaos and meet Me!” With that, the figure vanished.

Houtu was truly dumbfounded. Father Pangu had actually spoken to her? But had he not perished long ago? Had even his heart not become the Pangu Palace?

After pondering for a long while, Houtu finally made up her mind. She would go. She had to uncover the truth. If anyone dared impersonate her father god, then even if she had to stake her life, she would kill them. The dignity of the father god could not be profaned.

Not long after, Houtu arrived in the chaos and saw a man who was not especially tall, yet broad and imposing in stature, looking at her with a gentle expression.

“You... who exactly are you, and why have you transformed into the likeness of my clan’s father god?” Houtu asked, anger in her voice.

The man smiled faintly. As his form shifted, a gigantic phantom of Pangu appeared in the chaos.

The phantom radiated an immeasurable ancient vastness, as though it were an existence that had endured and remained unbroken since time immemorial. Houtu, who carried Pangu’s essence blood, felt an intimate closeness rising from the depths of her heart.

In that instant, tears welled in Houtu’s eyes without her meaning them to. She dropped to her knees at once, choked with emotion. “Father god!”

“Ah. Rise.” With a wave of his hand, Pangu lifted Houtu to her feet and said with a sigh, “These years have been hard on you.”

Through tears and a smile, Houtu shook her head. “If the witch clan can survive this great calamity, then Houtu would not fear death itself.”

Pangu gave a bitter smile. “I too do not know whether entrusting my essence blood to you back then was right or wrong. I never expected you to deduce, from only the faintest clues, that the witch clan was about to suffer a great calamity.”

Houtu froze, then unconsciously asked, “Essence blood? What essence blood?”

Then realization struck her, and she said in shock, “Back then, was it because Father God granted me essence blood that I was able to cultivate a spirit soul?”

Pangu nodded with a smile. “Indeed. In those days, I asked My master to place My essence blood into your body.”

At those words, Houtu was horrified. “Your master? Father God, you have a master?”

Seeing her ask this, Pangu nodded. “Yes, Master Chen Xing. Back then, I was rescued by My teacher, but because I could not appear before others in My true form, I entrusted this matter to My master.”

This truly left Houtu reeling. Chen Xing? He had rescued Father Pangu? And he was his master? How could that be? Was Chen Xing not merely a quasi-saint? Even if he had a saintly wife, he could not possibly be Father Pangu’s master. Let alone having saved Pangu—who would dare believe such a thing if it were spoken aloud?

Seeing that Houtu found it difficult to accept, Pangu smiled slightly and explained, “I cannot yet tell you Master’s true identity. The reason I summoned you today is that Master has been unable to spare attention for a while, and I truly could not bear to see your witch clan destroyed. That is why I disturbed the heavenly mechanisms and called you here.”

Though Houtu was full of doubts, once she heard that it concerned the witch clan, she could only set them aside for now and ask worriedly, “If I am not mistaken, my witch clan and the demon race are the protagonists of this very great tribulation. Though Father God wishes to help us, if He cannot manifest in His true body within the primordial world, I fear even He may be powerless to reverse this fate.”

Pangu smiled in response. “That is true. But circumstances have changed. Perhaps the witch clan can yet evade this disaster.”

Houtu was overjoyed to hear this and quickly asked, “Father God, please tell me at once—what is the method?”

Pangu enunciated each word slowly: “Control... reincarnation.”