After guarding the gates for a hundred years, I drove the Heavenly Saint to madness.

At the northernmost point of the North Sea, the sun never shines.

The biting wind, carrying razor-sharp ice and snow, frantically sliced ​​through the millennia-old ice on the sea surface, emitting a piercing howl that made one's teeth ache.

This is the most desolate and cold place in the primordial world, so desolate that even ordinary Golden Immortals are unwilling to linger here.

Braving the raging snow, Daoist Ran Deng and Daoist Cihang landed with difficulty in front of a huge, pitch-black palace.

The Demon Master's Palace.

The heavy bronze palace gates slowly opened, and a chilling current carrying the stench of ancient demons rushed out.

Suppressing his discomfort, Ran Deng led Ci Hang into the dark and deep hall.

At the far end of the hall, a cold figure leaned against a throne carved from ten-thousand-year-old black ice from the North Sea.

The man wore a dark green cloak, had a sinister face, a hooked nose, and triangular eyes.

Just sitting there, he exuded a domineering and demonic aura that seemed to devour the surrounding light.

The ancient demon court's master of all demons, the Kunpeng Ancestor.

Randeng stepped forward, performed a greeting as an equal, and spoke in a very polite tone: "This humble Taoist, Randeng, greets the Demon Master. I apologize for disturbing you today, but I have a favor to ask."

Kunpeng didn't even lift his eyelids, only letting out a lukewarm hum from his throat.

"The vice leader of the Chan Sect has come to my bitterly cold North Sea. What a rare guest!"

"Speak, what is it?"

Randeng didn't beat around the bush and gave a detailed account of the battle at Jiepai Pass, especially the power of the Twelve Heavenly Gods and Demons Formation.

"That wicked sect has somehow found the remnants of the witch clan's formation and is using the earth's veins to wreak havoc."

"I know that the Demon Master once fought against the Twelve Ancestral Witches and is very familiar with this Divine Fiend Formation. Therefore, I have come to ask the Demon Master to come out of the mountains and help my Chan Sect break this formation and follow the will of Heaven."

After Ran Deng finished speaking, he stood with his hands behind his back, quietly waiting for Kunpeng's reply.

In his view, Kunpeng and the Wu Clan had a deep-seated hatred for each other, and now that he heard that a Wu Clan formation had appeared in the world, he would definitely not hesitate to destroy it. This was a deal that was a perfect match.

However, the hall remained silent for a full ten breaths.

On the ice throne, Kunpeng slowly sat up straight.

Those sinister, triangular eyes looked at Ran Deng as if he were a fool, then a mocking sneer appeared on his lips.

"Will you help me break the formation?"

Kunpeng's voice was hoarse and shrill, echoing in the empty hall: "Randeng, have you been staying in Kunlun Mountain for too long, picking up the arrogance of the Primordial Celestial Venerable and ruining your brain?"

Ran Deng's expression stiffened: "What do you mean by that, Demon Master?"

"What do you mean?"

Kunpeng slammed his hand on the armrest, and the Xuanbing Throne made a crisp sound: "You disciples of the Chan Sect are not skilled enough. You were blocked outside the pass and beaten like dogs by a third-generation disciple of the Jie Sect. You lost face, your formation was broken, and an immortal died."

"Now that you can't clean up your own mess, you come to Beihai to act all high and mighty?"

Kunpeng leaned forward, his eyes filled with undisguised mockery and a sense of reality: "It's true I hate the Witch Clan, but they're long gone! The ones setting up the formation now are the Jie Sect!"

"The Jie Sect is known for its unity, and the Tongtian Sect Leader is a saint. Now, they are in the midst of a great calamity."

"Why should I, a humble Taoist, wade into this muddy water and needlessly join the Great Tribulation just for the sake of your Chan Sect's reputation? Tell me, am I the fool, or are you?"

This series of questions was like a series of resounding slaps to the faces of Randeng and Cihang.

The Taoist Ran Deng was completely speechless. His old face turned red with frustration, and for a moment he couldn't find a single word to refute him.

Before he arrived, his mind was filled with thoughts of using others to do his dirty work, believing that Kunpeng would surely suffer because of the hatred of the Wu Clan. But he completely forgot the most basic law of the primordial world.

The demon master Kunpeng was notorious for not acting without a profit motive.

Even during the Lich Wars, the enemy deserted in the face of battle and betrayed the demon race, becoming one of the key factors in the demon race's defeat and demise.

Why would he become someone else's henchman for nothing if there weren't enough incentives for him to do so?

To think you can persuade an ancient giant with just empty words? That's pure fantasy.

The atmosphere inside the hall instantly fell into a deathly stalemate.

For a moment, Ran Deng was caught in a dilemma, unsure whether to advance or retreat, so embarrassed that he wished he could dig a hole in the ice of Beihai Lake.

……

The situation in Beihai remained deadlocked, while inside Jiepai Pass, the atmosphere of impending doom grew increasingly tense.

Since Guang Chengzi and the others retreated, the Xiqi camp had been quiet for far too long. There were no challenges, no raids; it was like a stagnant pool.

But anyone who has been on the battlefield knows that beneath such stagnant waters often lies a tsunami powerful enough to overturn the heavens and the earth.

The General's Mansion, backyard.

"Something's not right, something's really not right."

Lu Yue paced anxiously back and forth in the courtyard, carrying his dark green gourd, his indigo face filled with worry.

"Nephew, I know all too well what kind of people those from the Chan Sect are. After suffering such a great loss and losing two Golden Immortals, they will never just swallow this insult."

"The unusual quietness they're displaying means they're definitely brewing some deadly trump card!"

Xiao Wuji had just finished his seclusion, and his mid-stage Great Luo cultivation power had been completely stabilized.

He sat on the stone bench, leisurely poured himself a cup of tea, and said in a calm tone, "Uncle-Master, don't panic."

"I have a powerful array protecting me, and a supreme treasure suppressing me. Unless they invite the Primordial Celestial Venerable, they cannot break through this Jiepai Pass."

"Foolish!"

Lu Yue suddenly stopped, his three eyes glaring fiercely at Xiao Wuji, his tone filled with urgency and protective anger.

"No matter how strong you are, or how many magical treasures you possess, can you withstand their endless attrition and scheming? Two fists can't fight four hands, and even a hero can't withstand a crowd!"

"Our Jie Sect is said to have ten thousand immortals paying homage, has it all died out?"

"If word gets back to Jin'ao Island, how will I, the 'plague god' of Jiulong Island, put my face? How will the elders of the Jie Sect put their faces?"

Xiao Wuji was slightly taken aback, and a warm feeling welled up in his heart.

This uncle, who usually looks fierce and covered in sores, is truly fiercely protective of his own.

"Uncle-Master, I can really handle this..."

Xiao Wuji was about to try to persuade him again when Lü Yue rudely waved his hand to interrupt him.

"No, this can't go on like this!"

Lü Yue hung the Plague Gourd on his waist, strode out of the courtyard, and said without turning his head:

"It's too dangerous for you to stay here alone. I absolutely cannot watch you be ambushed by those hypocrites."

"You stay here and hold your ground. I will return to Jin'ao Island immediately and report this matter to my master!"

"Even if Master disagrees, I will definitely persuade my fellow disciples to come and help."

Before he could finish speaking, Lü Yue gave Xiao Wuji no chance to stop him.

He transformed into a streak of ghastly green, poisonous miasma, piercing the sky and hurtling headlong toward the East China Sea.

Xiao Wuji stood in the courtyard, looking in the direction where Lü Yue had disappeared, his hand holding the teacup frozen in mid-air.

After a long while, he smiled helplessly and drank the tea in his cup in one gulp.

"This guy has a really bad temper."

However, despite his laughter, Xiao Wuji didn't take it seriously.

Now, his cheap master is focused on the Ten Thousand Immortals Formation. If he really cared, he would have brought people with him when Wudang came before. How could he possibly change his mind because of Lu Yue, an outer disciple?