Primordial Era: I, Tongtian, will slay all enemies!

The next day, at the foot of Jinji Ridge, the morning mist shrouded the land, but could not conceal the murderous aura permeating the air.

The two armies stood in neat formation facing each other, their battle flags fluttering in the breeze.

The Twelve Golden Immortals, along with Emperor Xin and others, stood at the forefront, exuding an awe-inspiring aura.

Jinzha stood beside Manjushri, the Heavenly Venerable of Vast Dharma, his palms sweating profusely.

He looked up at Manjushri, the Heavenly Venerable of Vast Dharma, and the moment their eyes met, the Heavenly Venerable immediately understood Huang Tianhua's meaning.

Manjushri Bodhisattva nodded slightly. Jinzha took a deep breath, gripped the Dragon-Binding Stake and the Flat Staff, and resolutely stepped into the open space between the two armies.

"You worthless bastards of the Great Shang, come out and face your deaths!" Jin Zha's roar exploded on the silent battlefield, the sound waves rolling, and the Great Shang army was immediately thrown into an uproar.

A cold glint flashed in Nezha's eyes, and his figure shot out like lightning, flames raging beneath his Wind and Fire Wheels, leaving two charred marks on the ground.

"Stop being so arrogant!"

In the blink of an eye, the two were locked in combat.

Jinzha brandished the Dragon-Binding Stake, each swing bringing with it a howling gale that sliced ​​through the air like blades, tearing apart the surrounding atmosphere.

The flat cane gleamed with a chilling light under the sunlight as it slammed down on Nezha. Each strike carried immense force, causing the ground to tremble and sending sand and stones flying.

Nezha nimbly weaved through Jinzha's attacks, his spear tip sparking as it rubbed against the air. When it collided with Jinzha's magical weapon, it burst forth with dazzling light, illuminating everyone's faces, accompanied by a deafening roar.

The two appeared to be locked in a fierce battle, but in reality, their eyes met rapidly during the intense fight, and subtle movements of their eyebrows and eyes conveyed messages that only they could understand.

Manjushri Bodhisattva smiled slightly, his eyes full of praise for his disciple.

The other eleven Golden Immortals also wore smiles, their eyes radiating confidence. They occasionally whispered among themselves, all believing that the scales of victory had tipped in favor of Xiqi.

After about fifteen minutes, Jinzha's movements gradually slowed down, and beads of sweat kept sliding down his face, dripping onto the ground and splashing up tiny dust particles.

His breathing became rapid, and each swing of the Dragon-Binding Stake and the Flat Crutch seemed somewhat powerless, his decline gradually becoming apparent.

Upon seeing this, Mu Zha, a soldier from the Western Zhou army, had a cunning glint in his eyes. Holding his Wu Hook Sword, he shouted, "Brother, I'm here to help you!" and charged into the battlefield.

Nezha showed no fear, and his fighting spirit ignited even stronger.

He swung his fire-tipped spear even more swiftly, the tip of the spear creating a buzzing sound in the air.

He precisely neutralized the combined attack of Jinzha and Muzha with every move, and his figure flashed without being at a disadvantage. His Wind and Fire Wheels spun even faster and burned even more fiercely.

Di Xin, who had been sitting lazily on the throne, now sat up slightly, rested his chin on his hand, and surveyed the battlefield.

When his gaze fell on Lei Zhenzi, he nodded slightly. Lei Zhenzi understood immediately, spread his wings and soared into the sky. With each flap of his wings, a gale howled and sand and stones flew.

With Lei Zhenzi's arrival, the situation changed instantly.

Jinzha and Muzha felt the pressure increase. Jinzha's Dragon-Binding Stake was already somewhat ineffective when attacking, and each swing was clumsy, which Nezha skillfully dodged. He was also almost stabbed by the Fire-Tipped Spear.

Mu Zha's Wu Hook Sword was easily deflected by Nezha, and the powerful recoil made his arm go numb.

The two gradually fell into a disadvantageous position, facing constant danger. Every attack and dodge they made looked disheveled, their clothes were torn, and their hair flew wildly in the wind.

Seeing this, Huang Tianhua, a soldier in the Xiqi army, was extremely anxious. He respectfully bowed to Qingxu Daode Tianzun and said, "Master, your disciple will go to help."

After saying this, he picked up the octagonal bright silver hammer and the Hunyuan Banner, and charged into the battlefield with great momentum.

For a moment, the sound of magical treasures colliding was deafening. Lei Zhenzi and Nezha fought against three opponents, but did not back down.

Lei Zhenzi's Four Symbols Pagoda, like Mount Tai pressing down, smashed down on the enemy with immense force with each attack.

The two sides fought back and forth, neither giving an inch, and the battle became increasingly fierce. The battlefield was shrouded in mist and smoke, making it almost impossible to see either side clearly.

When the soldiers of the Shang Dynasty saw the actions of the Western Zhou army, they were all filled with righteous indignation. They roared angrily with red faces and thick necks, and their shouts and curses rose and fell. They wished they could rush up and fight the Western Zhou army immediately.

The Twelve Golden Immortals, however, were absorbed in their attention to their disciples, ignoring the angry clamor around them. They simply nodded in praise and chatted with each other about the profound cultivation of their disciples in the Chan Sect.

As time went by, Jinzha, Muzha, and Huang Tianhua exchanged glances and, as if by unspoken agreement, deliberately revealed a flaw.

Nezha and Lei Zhenzi instantly understood, seized the opportunity, and worked together to capture the three of them in the blink of an eye.

The Xiqi camp was thrown into chaos. Qingxu Daode Tianzun, Puxian Zhenren, and Manjushri Guangfa Tianzun's expressions changed drastically. They were extremely anxious and rushed forward without regard for anything else, trying to reclaim their spiritual treasures—no, their disciples.

Just as the three were about to take action, Kong Xuan, Wudang Holy Mother, and Jinling Holy Mother stood like three insurmountable barriers in front of them.

Upon seeing this, Ran Deng hurriedly shouted, "Wait, fellow Daoist, we have lost this round. Please return my Chan Sect disciples."

Kong Xuan angrily rebuked, "You Chan Sect are truly shameless! Not only did you fight three against two, but you were also captured and still have the nerve to demand our release! It's disgusting!"

Master Puxian looked anxious, with veins bulging on his forehead.

"Vice Master, our most treasured artifact is on our disciple! He's our own disciple! If he's caught now, he'll surely be beheaded!"

At this moment, Di Xin slowly stood up, exuding a kingly aura, and walked forward with a majestic expression.

"You gentlemen are overthinking this. Jinzha and Muzha's father is Li Jing, and Huang Tianhua's father is King Wucheng, Huang Feihu. So rest assured, I intend to give them important positions."

Upon hearing Di Xin's words, the Twelve Golden Immortals felt an ominous premonition, as if shrouded in dark clouds.

Seeing that the situation was not good, Randeng immediately pulled Puxian Zhenren and the other two back, and then hurriedly offered his opinion.

"Those who fight today shall not fight again tomorrow. Is this acceptable, Your Majesty?"

Di Xin nodded slightly in agreement.

Ran Deng said helplessly, "I'll wait until tomorrow to fight again."

After saying this, both sides returned to their respective camps.

The atmosphere in the Xiqi camp was as oppressive as the night before a storm.

The Twelve Golden Immortals were extremely anxious. In their haste, they hurriedly retrieved the magical treasures they had bestowed upon their disciples, their faces filled with worry, and they blamed each other.

"Which bastard came up with this terrible idea? Now look what's happened! Not only have our disciples been captured, but our most prized possession has also been stolen."

"Hmph, Junior Brother Qingxu, how dare you say that? You didn't object back then, so what's the point of saying this now!"

Unlike Xiqi, the Shang Dynasty was filled with jubilation, singing, dancing, and peace.

The soldiers sat together, laughing and chatting, celebrating Jinzha, Muzha, and Huang Tianhua's return to their ancestral home.

Di Xin sat in his tent, a satisfied smile on his face, his eyes gleaming with wisdom.

The next day, Randeng frowned and paced back and forth in his tent, pondering for a long time before finally deciding to send Yang Jian into battle.

He knew that the only ones on the Shang side who could fight Yang Jian were Nezha and Lei Zhenzi, and he wanted to use Yang Jian to turn the tide of yesterday's defeat.

Upon receiving the order, Yang Jian's lips curled into a confident smile, a smile brimming with boundless pride.

Holding a three-pointed double-edged sword, he slowly walked out of the tent and came to the front of the formation, his eyes full of provocation.

"Is there no one left in the Great Shang Dynasty? Is there anyone who dares to fight me?"