Primordial Era: Starting with the repair of Penglai Immortal Island

The golden crows were furious and their emotions were running high. Golden flames shot into the sky, and even with the great formation and the Fusang tree covering them, they still dyed half of the sky in the East Sea red-gold.

In this extreme rage, a faint, chaotic, and turbid aura quietly descended from the endless void, as if the great array enveloping Tang Valley and the Daoist charm emanating from the innate spiritual root Fusang Tree did not exist.

Like a series of chilling venomous snakes, they plunged straight into the depths of the soul of every golden crow.

The golden crows roared passionately, but a strange crimson glint flashed in their eyes unnoticed.

That crimson hue was so subtle and ominous, yet it did not clash in the slightest with the golden divine light emanating from them.

The calamity's aura had already silently descended upon this Valley of Tang, beginning to exert its effects.

Emperor Jun had once strictly decreed that "no more than three Golden Crows may set foot on the Primordial Continent at the same time." This ironclad rule, intended to maintain the balance of heaven and earth and protect his beloved son, seemed to have been forgotten by the Golden Crows at this moment, under the influence of that crimson aura of calamity.

"Go! Crush that Wu tribe and use this True Sun Fire to burn Kuafu and his kin!" The Great Golden Crow Prince's hand revealed a True Sun Fire filled with vast power. His voice was cold and contained killing intent towards the Wu tribe. He transformed into his Golden Crow form, spread his wings, and was about to lead the other Golden Crows out of Tang Valley.

"Your Highnesses! Wait a moment!"

A deep and urgent shout rang out to stop him.

Space distorted, and a figure blocked the exit of Tang Valley.

The newcomer had the body of a human and the body of a beast, with nine ferocious snake heads growing on his neck. His eighteen eyes flashed with worry and determination. He was none other than the demon saint Jiuying, who was ordered by Emperor Jun to guard Tanggu!

In order to stop the ten Golden Crow Princes, it actually revealed its true form as the Nine-Headed Serpent.

The nine heads of the Nine Infants moved in unison, their voices like the clang of metal on metal, carrying an undeniable solemnity: "Your Highnesses, do not act rashly! His Majesty has strictly ordered that all ten princes must not leave Tang Valley at the same time! Ten suns rising simultaneously would draw upon the power of the Great Japanese Origin to descend upon the primordial world, a catastrophe that would destroy the world!"

Jiuying paused, as if contemplating an incredibly terrifying scene. Its nine heads simultaneously paled, and it addressed the group of golden crows...

"At that time, burdened by endless karmic retribution for killing, not only will His Majesty and the Eastern Emperor not spare this old minister, but even the crown princes themselves will suffer a backlash from their own fortunes, potentially leading to their downfall!"

His words, like the icy water that has been frozen for billions of years beneath an endless abyss, slightly extinguished the raging flames of the golden crows.

They may not care about anything else, but they have an instinctive awe for the majesty of their father, Emperor Jun, and their uncle, Taiyi.

In particular, Jiuying's description—the consequences of ten yang energies emerging simultaneously—brought back a sliver of rationality that had been affected by the calamity's energy.

The Great Golden Crow Prince's flapping motion froze in mid-air. His golden pupils were fixed on the gate of the array behind the Nine-Headed Serpent, and then he looked at his two younger brothers who were covered in wounds and had weakened auras.

He took a deep breath, suppressed the terrifying solar fire surrounding him, and returned to human form.

"Uncle Jiuying, what you say... is true. It was my oversight that almost brought disaster upon Father!"

The Great Golden Crow's voice regained its usual composure, but the suppressed anger could still be detected within it: "Let that barbarian Kuafu live a few more days."

He turned to his two injured brothers, his tone tinged with concern: "You two, immediately use the power of the Fusang Divine Tree to heal your wounds! Restore your original essence as soon as possible!"

Seeing the two golden crows about to speak, the larger golden crow comforted them, "Don't worry! This grudge will be avenged, but we need to plan carefully!"

Although the two injured golden crows were unwilling, they knew that their condition was precarious. They could only let out a soft cry, flap their wings with all their might, and fly to the two highest branches of the Fusang tree.

The branches seemed to come alive, flowing with a crimson-gold light that gently enveloped them.

At the same time, the ancient sun, which hung high in the endless void, seemed to be drawn down, sending down two beams of extremely refined solar essence, like golden pillars of light, piercing through the heavens and earth and enveloping them.

They curled up and began to inhale and exhale the true fire of the sun, repairing their damaged physical bodies and primordial spirits.

The fact that the Golden Crow Prince is temporarily unable to launch a full-scale attack to seek revenge on Kuafu does not mean that they will fall silent.

In the years that followed, one, two, or at most three golden crows began to appear frequently in the southern part of the prehistoric world, above the Wu tribe.

High in the sky, it looked down with a chilling killing intent at the witch tribes below, who were like ants.

"Die! Die! Die!" A golden crow roared, its voice like rolling thunder, echoing throughout the mountains and fields.

Then, they flapped their wings, and countless fist-sized golden flames, containing destructive power, poured down like a torrential rain.

These true solar flames were no longer just aimed at the Wu tribe; they encompassed the entire area within a radius of tens of thousands of miles around the tribe.

The terrifying true fire of the sun ignites anything it touches. Whether it is a sturdy stone house, a tall totem pole, or a strong witch warrior, everything is instantly set ablaze, turning into towering torches and ultimately reduced to ashes.

Numerous witches roared in anger and howled in despair, weaving a hellish symphony, yet they could not reach the culprit hurtling across the sky.

On a massive mountain peak, Kuafu, a man as imposing as a mountain, stood atop the summit, watching the departing golden crow. His rugged face was now filled with helplessness and boundless rage.

He gripped the enormous wooden staff in his hand and with a mighty swing, smashed the tens of thousands of feet high mountain beneath his feet to pieces.

"Those hairy beasts run so fast!"

A high priest, who had been running up from behind, watched the golden light slowly dissipate, gritted his teeth, his eyes bloodshot, and shouted, "Chief, let's keep chasing!"

Kuafu slowly shook his head, his voice deep and rumbling like thunder: "They are too fast. The golden crows transform into rainbows, covering billions of miles in an instant. We can't catch up."

He paused for a moment, a resolute glint in his eyes: "Continue the ambush! Conceal all your presence, just like last time! There will always be a chance; they'll get closer!"

So, on the outskirts of another medium-sized Wu tribe, Kuafu led more than ten Wu tribe Daluo to set up a Wu formation to conceal their aura, merging their own aura with the earth's turbid energy, and patiently lay in wait.