Primordial Era: A Counterattack Against Hongjun Daozu at the Start

The Ancestral Witch of Thick Earth gazed at the map of mountains and rivers sent by Zhou Yi and pondered, "This Human Emperor's plans are far-reaching; he can even see through the flaws in my clan's bloodline. If the Witch Clan faces calamity one day..."

Zhou Yi stood alone atop Shouyang Mountain, gazing upon the growing divine fortune and martial prowess of the human tribes.

The gears of the third great calamity have already begun to turn, and the chess piece named "Human Race" on the Heavenly Chessboard is quietly shifting in his hand.

Inside the Human Race Temple, the sermons of Grand Master Miaole still echoed throughout heaven and earth. Zhou Yi sat quietly on the cloud platform, his body radiating Daoist energy like an inverted galaxy.

The life-or-death battle with the Demon Clan Supreme had transformed into countless fragments of Dao principles within his sea of ​​consciousness, gradually condensing into dazzling Dao patterns under the shroud of the Taiji Diagram's illusory image.

A dark golden light emanated from between Zhou Yi's brows, manifesting the phenomenon of the Myriad Laws Furnace. The chaotic aura generated by the shaking of the Taiyi Bell was now becoming the fuel for refining the origin.

If the Demon Emperor Jun were here, he would surely be shocked to realize that the seemingly hasty battle that day was actually a carefully orchestrated scheme by the opponent to use force to prove their Dao.

As the purple aura rose from Shouyang Mountain, the Styx Ancestor deep within the Blood Sea suddenly opened his eyes.

The Twelve-Petaled Karmic Fire Lotus ignited without wind, reflecting his ever-changing expression: "The Supreme Saint Taiqing's innate treasure is actually willing to cover the sky for the human race. This move was a miscalculation on my part."

A crisp sound of ice crystals shattering echoed from the depths of the Northern Abyss, and the celestial constellation diagram on the dome of the Demon Master's Palace trembled violently.

The Roc Taoist crushed the tortoise shell in his hand, and the divination revealed a secret that made his pupils shrink slightly: "Using war to nourish the Tao, borrowing the power of a sage to give back to his clan—this person is actually using the power of the Great Calamity as a stepping stone!"

On the Enlightenment Cliff atop Shouyang Mountain, a chaotic blue lotus, condensed from three hundred and sixty laws, floats before Zhou Yi.

The residual true fire of the sun from Taiyi flows among the petals, imprinting the projections of the stars in the heavens onto each lotus leaf.

When the phantom of the Purple Star Emperor appeared in the heart of the flower, the spiritual energy of the entire human holy land suddenly surged.

The sighs from the depths of the Nine Netherworlds and the gazes from the Trayastrimsa Heaven converged at this moment, and the great beings of the Primordial World finally realized: this human race, which created its own cultivation system, is using heaven and earth as a furnace to reforge the path of cultivation.

The millennium of preaching may well be the countdown to the beginning of a new era.

Beneath the blood-red sky, Styx, clad in a scarlet robe, stood with his hands behind his back, the crimson lotus of karmic fire beneath his feet emitting an eerie light: "Fellow Daoist is absolutely right. The protection of the Supreme Saint has its limits. The day Miaole finishes her sermon will be the day humanity perishes."

Standing atop the blood-red waves of the Netherworld, the demonic roc smiled sinisterly, its sharp, well-defined claws slicing through the void: "I'd like to see how the Ancient Sacred Body, now deprived of the Taiji Diagram's protection, can withstand the combined might of you and me."

As the two ancient powerful beings locked eyes, the surging waves of the sea of ​​blood froze.

They clearly remembered the scene atop Mount Buzhou that day: Zhou Yi's holy body shone with golden light as he forcefully clashed with the Chaos Bell, and the force of his fist even knocked down stars from beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens.

However, this imposing aura was like a chess player who had seen through the game, already spotting the fatal flaw.

"This boy is merely imitating the body-refining techniques of the Witch Clan." Styx lightly stroked the hilt of the Abyssal Sword at his waist, the cold glint of light flowing on the scabbard of the Yuan Tu Sword reflecting the mockery in his eyes:

"The Ancestral Witch is born with a profound understanding of the laws, but he only possesses brute strength. I will use the Xuan Yuan Control Water Flag to restrict his movements, while your Northern Darkness Frost Prison will be a perfect counter to the Holy Body Golden Body."

A phantom of a roc, obscuring the sky, appeared behind the demon master, his tone chilling: "At that time, we must also be wary of the Supreme Saint..."

"Heaven bears witness!" Styx suddenly interrupted, the crimson lotus flames beneath his feet rising abruptly. "I swear by the Netherworld Blood Sea that all the karma from this will fall upon me. Even if a sage were to personally descend, he would find it difficult to defy the calamity of heavenly punishment."

A thousand miles away in a human tribe, Zhou Yi gazed thoughtfully at the horizon. His knuckles were white from clenching his fists, and the bronze spear had etched deep bloodstains into his palms.

As a transmigrator, he knew better than anyone the impending bloody calamity: the mountains of corpses piled up under the demon race's witch-slaying sword, the desperate cries of women and children—these were memories etched deep into his soul.

"It'll be soon," he murmured to himself, the golden light of the Ancient Sacred Body swirling deep within his pupils.

The ethereal sound of sermons drifted from afar, as countless human cultivators bathed in the Tao Te Ching, attempting to break through to higher realms. Beneath this peaceful facade, the most perilous killing spree in the primordial world had already begun.

In the primordial era, when Zhou Yi led the human tribes to complete their third migration, the sound of bronze vessels striking each other awakened the sleeping Hetu and Luoshu.

After nine stellar orbit shifts, this tribe, which once huddled on the shores of the East China Sea, has now built twelve observatories on the Zhuolu Plain.

"If fate demands that humanity shed blood..." Zhou Yi stared at the newly cracked divination marks on the tortoise shell, the totem in his palm flickering between light and shadow.

The battle against the Demon Court a century ago caused his Dao heart to form seven layers of glazed light. At this moment, the aftershocks of the Taiyi Bell still resonated in his bloodline, but they could no longer shake the three-inch mountains and rivers beneath his feet.

Miaole's preaching platform floated above Yunmeng Marsh, with nine thousand six hundred black iron chains hanging down to the mortal realm.

Each time the moon phases, the bronze chimes will automatically ring, condensing the Daoist principles into tangible jade slips that scatter across the earth.

On the day the seventh Jiazi cycle arrived, Zhou Yi saw the first human youth who had independently comprehended the workings of the universe, with the phantom image of the Eight Trigrams of the Primordial Heaven appearing between his forehead.

The silence of the Demon Court was unusually unsettling. Deep within the Northern Sea Eye, the true forms of the Twelve Ancestral Witches were devouring the primordial chaos energy, and the cracks in their armor were being filled by the Heavenly River Weak Water.

The Yuqiang Stone Box recently sent by the Gonggong clan contains a broken half of a demon-summoning banner, which oozes pale golden blood on the night of a full moon.

On the day the millennium was about to end, Miaole's Taoist robe had lost its three-color hue.

When he touched Zhou Yi's brow with his fingertip, the projection of the Kunlun Mirror suddenly appeared in the clouds: in the picture, nine three-legged crows circled around Buzhou Mountain, and with each circle, the crown of the Demon Emperor Jun would have another crack.

"Your path is not within the Eight Trigrams." Miao Le withdrew her fingers, stirring up stardust. "When the River Chart is completely dyed red, remember to sink the Luo River Chart into the Ruins of Return."

As Zhou Yi watched the lectern transform into a stream of light and vanish, the totem in his palm suddenly became scorching hot.

He heard the sound of the Jianmu tree growing taller from deep within the clouds; he knew this was the Wu tribe reforging the Sun-Shooting Bow.

As the twelve observatories lit up simultaneously, he heard the hundred ancient texts within his body transforming into three thousand runes, which were reorganizing into a brand new Heavenly Law.

Although most humans may not switch to the Miaole lineage, its profound teachings are of great benefit to human cultivation.

As the crowd bowed in gratitude, Miaole, dressed in a plain Taoist robe, lightly waved her whisk and said, "As fellow human beings, witnessing the prosperity of our race is my greatest wish."

This protection was not only demonstrated during the millennium of preaching, but also during the demon invasion, when the human race was completely sheltered. Clad in animal skin armor, Zhou Yi gripped his stone axe and promised: "May the Venerable One bear witness that the human race will surely flourish and thrive on this primordial land."

Looking at the distant village with its rising smoke, Miaole said earnestly, "With a decisive leader like you, the tribe's future is promising. Before you leave, I must remind you that the demon race will never give up easily."