Primordial Era: A Counterattack Against Hongjun Daozu at the Start

Fortunately, past experience could be used as a reference, and after tireless preparations day and night, this unprecedented grand event was finally able to open as scheduled.

The Grand Gathering of Talents has achieved a historic breakthrough, with over five million cultivators qualifying for the main competition after rigorous selection.

Compared to the first tournament, this year's competition has seen a fivefold increase in participation, demonstrating the vigorous development of the new generation of human power.

All those who advanced reached the Immortal Third Stage Dao Realm, which in the Primordial World system means a combat power of five million True Immortals.

Although they are insignificant in the eyes of the Lich and Demon races, these potential seeds carry the hope of civilization's leap forward for the human race.

From among them will surely emerge leaders of the Golden Immortal realm, pillars of the Great Luo realm, and even peak beings at the Quasi-Saint level.

After the selection process concluded, the competition quickly entered its most intense phase. Thousands of arenas showcased profound magical techniques, and the enthusiasm of the spectators propelled the human race's fortune to new heights.

Zhou Yi gazed at the spirited young cultivators in the arena, a look of satisfaction in his eyes. This was exactly the spark of civilization he had hoped to see.

While the entire clan was immersed in this grand cultivation ceremony, the disciples of Mount Ling were trapped in a predicament in the Netherworld. Since their last failure, the disciples of Jieyin and Zhunti had become increasingly cautious in their plans regarding the Six Paths of Reincarnation.

These Buddhist practitioners spent years trying to decipher the secrets of heaven, but they still couldn't find a way to enter the realm that conformed to the rules of heaven.

The Venerable Ksitigarbha, renowned for his wisdom, had over a hundred incomplete plans piled up on his desk. Each plan, after repeated deliberation, was ultimately abandoned due to his fear of the ancestral witches' countermeasures.

The disciples were well aware that their opponent was extraordinary, and any slight flaw would lead to failure.

To ensure safety, Western believers have been observing the cycle of reincarnation for thirty years, recording the energy fluctuations of millions of soul rebirths.

On the evening of a certain observation day, a ghostly aura suddenly intruded into their barrier domain.

This unexpected visitor provided an outlet for the Buddhist practitioners who had been anxious for a long time.

"What evil spirits dare to intrude upon the orthodox teachings of the sages!" Several Golden Immortal disciples immediately formed a demon-subduing array seal, and the powerful Buddhist light transformed into twelve layers of restrictions that enveloped the void.

However, the dark figure moved through the gaps in the laws like a streak of light, and all its supernatural powers failed, leaving only swastika-shaped scorch marks of varying depths on the Netherworld.

As the afterimage flashed by, several Western Cult monks fell to the ground. Fine dust rose from the bluestone slab, and moonlight condensed into a cold glint at the tip of the blade.

"How dare you!" Ksitigarbha shattered the blue bricks and arrived through the air, twelve golden wheels humming and vibrating behind him. His wide monk's robe billowed like sails, precisely cutting off the dark figure's retreat.

The mysterious figure leisurely lingered on the ancient cypress branch, his black robes fluttering even without wind: "These lowly soldiers dare to lay their hands on the Samsara Platform? If I had used even a fraction of my strength just now..." Withered leaves shattered into dust as he spoke, "You should be collecting their corpses now."

Ksitigarbha's knuckles, hanging beneath his robe, clenched so tightly they turned white, yet his face remained compassionate: "Since you know the secrets of my sect, why not reveal your true form?"

"The enemy of my enemy." A cold laugh, like metal clashing, came from the black robe. "Do you really think those brutes of the Witch Clan can set up an inescapable trap? Behind them stands a being that even the Listening Beast cannot smell."

The young bodhisattva's sandalwood prayer beads suddenly snapped, the glass beads falling to the ground with a crisp, icy sound. He stepped on the rolling beads and suddenly chuckled, "Since you've come as a persuader, you should at least bring some sincerity."

"Sincerity?" The shadowy figure flicked out a broken arrow from his sleeve, the arrowhead still glowing with a ghostly blue phosphorescence that did not belong to the Three Realms. "Last night, the Ten Kings of Hell had lists of your spies on their desks."

Ksitigarbha's expression finally changed. The prayer beads on his wrist transformed into a Vajra chain and soared into the sky, but when they touched the black robe, they pierced through the illusion—which was nothing more than a solid mass of black mist.

"At midnight three days from now, at the Bridge of Helplessness." The lingering sound drifted among the pine trees, "Bring your swastika-patterned golden seals, or wait to collect the corpses of the Eighteen Arhats."

Deep within the Netherworld Blood Sea, three beads in Ksitigarbha's rosary suddenly broke off.

The black-robed figure emerging from the shadows let out a laugh that sounded like sandpaper rubbing together: "You won't find the mastermind behind the Witch Clan, because he has already left the Underworld."

"Who exactly is controlling the Witch Clan?" Ksitigarbha's robe fluttered without wind, and cracks appeared on the golden lotus beneath his feet. He didn't care about the identity of the dark figure before him; he only cared about the mysterious being who could command the obedience of the Twelve Ancestral Witches.

A three-headed serpent crawled out from the shadowy sleeve, hissing and flicking its tongue: "What's in it for you to tell me?"

The six eyes of the Nether Serpent reflected the gradually distorting face of Ksitigarbha.

"You deliberately showed yourself, which means that person is also your mortal enemy." Cold sweat seeped from Ksitigarbha's palms. He noticed that when the shadowy figure mentioned "cooperation," all the Yellow Springs Spider Lilies turned to the west.

The black robe suddenly exploded, transforming into ten thousand blood bats that spelled out a hideous totem on the rock wall: "I want you to send three Quasi-Saints. After this is done, his head will be mine."

The Vajra pestle hidden in Ksitigarbha's sleeve was slightly warm. He suppressed his emotions: "The Witch Clan's backers are merely at the Great Luo Golden Immortal level..."

Before he could finish speaking, the bat that had transformed from the shadow suddenly swooped down on the rock wall, carving out a scene that sent chills down Ksitigarbha's spine with its sharp claws. Under the illusory image of the Taiyi Bell, the human princess held up the shattered Thirty-Three Heavens with one hand.

"Impossible!" The sutra in Ksitigarbha's hand fell, shattering two karmic fire lotuses. He clearly saw the totems on the rock wall changing, and the twelve ancestral witches were actually performing the highest witch clan ceremony on the human princess.

The shadowy figure's laughter echoed through the cave: "Three days from now, bring a Quasi-Saint here to swear an oath to the Heavenly Dao, or else..."

Before he finished speaking, the swarm of blood bats transformed into six drops of blood-stained Sanskrit characters, which were the reversed version of the six-syllable mantra personally transmitted by the Holy One.

Deep within the underworld, the ghostly blue soul flames illuminated Ksitigarbha's bewildered face. The figure shrouded in black mist still hovered in mid-air, its voice hoarse like sandpaper being rubbed: "The movements of the Twelve Ancestral Witches of the Witch Clan are all under the control of that human leader."

"Absurd!" The prayer beads in Ksitigarbha's hand suddenly snapped, and shards of the seven-jeweled lapis lazuli splattered onto the Yellow Spring Stone. "Chi You was defeated only a thousand years ago. How could the human race possess such extraordinary abilities?" His kasaya moved without wind, and the phantoms of the Eight Heavenly Dragons appeared behind him.

The shadowy figure let out a metallic, scraping laugh: "Back then, when Mount Buzhou collapsed and the Goddess of Earth transformed into the cycle of reincarnation, did you think the Witch Clan alone could suppress the Netherworld Qi? If it weren't for that person leaving the mark of human destiny in the Book of Life and Death..."

Before the words were finished, a deafening roar of breaking chains echoed from the depths of the eighteenth level of hell.

His pupils suddenly contracted. He recalled his inspection of the animal realm thirty years ago, when those supposedly dazed and confused witch soldiers were performing a ritual in perfect unison towards the human world. At the time, he had simply taken it as a manifestation of the Earth Goddess, but now, thinking back…

"On the day the Taiyi Bell resounded throughout the Heavenly Court, why do you think the demon race suddenly withdrew their troops?" The mist surrounding the dark figure surged violently, vaguely revealing half a face covered in witch clan tattoos. "That person confronted Taiyi in the Ruins of Return for three days, forcibly postponing the Great Tribulation by a full sixty years!"

Suddenly, the Samsara Well spewed forth a seven-colored glow, making the cold sweat on Ksitigarbha's forehead clearly visible.