My classmates chose martial arts and fantasy, but I chose the prehistoric world.

Inside the Pangu Palace, Meng Chuan's words were like a thunderclap from the heavens, exploding in the hearts of the Twelve Ancestral Witches.

"To be on equal footing with Hongjun?"

Dijiang murmured repeatedly, his voice, which was like muffled thunder, even trembled slightly.

The muscles on his rugged face twitched slightly, and his bloodshot eyes stared intently at Meng Chuan.

Zhu Rong's body erupted in flames several meters high, scorching the stone seat beneath him.

He abruptly stood up, his voice rough and hoarse: "Brother Meng Chuan, are you... not confused?"

"That old Taoist Hongjun is a sage! He lectured twice at Zixiao Palace, and who in the primordial world doesn't call him the Dao Ancestor? Houtu is only at the early stage of Quasi-Saint, how can she compare to him?"

"yes!"

Gonggong stood beneath surging black water, his face solemn. "Though we do not worship Hongjun, but only our Father God, we know that the old Taoist's supernatural powers are vast and unfathomable. His preaching at Zixiao Palace and enlightening the primordial world is an immense merit!"

"Even though Houtu is exceptionally talented, she still..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but his meaning was clear—the gap was too large, so large that it was despair-inducing.

The other ancestral witches looked at each other, their eyes filled with shock and disbelief.

Even the most composed Zhu Jiuyin, whose eyes could see into the long river of time, was now flashing violently, with the power of time flowing erratically around him, clearly indicating that his emotions were turbulent.

He then sat quietly on his stone seat, his bare feet lightly touching the cold ground, his fingertips unconsciously curling up.

She raised her eyes and looked at the figure in green robes standing in the center of the hall. Her calm gaze was shattered, and a storm raged within her that she could hardly suppress.

To be on par with Hongjun...?

That Dao Ancestor who resides high in Zixiao Palace, whose words can determine the fate of the primordial world, and who even the Three Pure Ones and the demon race must bow to.

She had never had such a thought.

She had never even considered it before Meng Chuan said those words.

"Please be at ease, my ancestral shamans."

Meng Chuan remained calm, his gaze sweeping over the faces that were filled with shock, doubt, or excitement, before he slowly spoke.

"When I say 'on par with,' I am not referring to Hongjun as he is now."

He paused, then spoke each word clearly.

"It refers to Hongjun at that time, after the three lectures at Zixiao Palace, when he merged with the Heavenly Dao and became its spokesperson!"

boom--!!

If the words just now were thunderclaps, then this one is the primordial divine thunder that created the world, striking directly into the depths of the souls of all the ancestral witches!

"To merge...to merge with the Heavenly Dao?!"

Dijiang gasped, his voice trembling.

"A spokesperson for the Way of Heaven?!"

The flames surrounding Zhurong suddenly stopped, and his pupils contracted.

The other Ancestral Witches were horrified, and even Zhu Jiuyin suddenly stood up, his power of time exploding into chaotic ripples in the hall.

The Heavenly Dao! It is the supreme being that transcends all things, operates the primordial chaos, sets the rules, and governs the rise and fall of all living beings!

Hongjun wants to merge with the Heavenly Dao and become its spokesperson?

Wouldn't that mean... being equal to Heaven, acting on behalf of Heaven?!

Her delicate body trembled almost imperceptibly, and a look of surprise appeared on her usually calm face.

She looked at Meng Chuan, her gaze filled with an unprecedented solemnity.

"Brother Meng Chuan... how did you learn of this?"

Dijiang took several deep breaths, suppressing the turmoil in his heart, and asked in a deep voice, his voice still trembling with barely suppressed emotion.

Hongjun merged with the Dao, and even Zhujiuyin, who was skilled in time calculation, was completely unaware of such heavenly secrets.

How did Meng Chuan know this?

Meng Chuan looked at Di Jiang, but instead of answering directly, he asked a question:

"Brother Dijiang, fellow Ancestral Witches, do you know... why the Dragon, Phoenix, and Qilin clans, who once dominated the primordial world, ultimately declined and perished, to the point that their bloodlines are now almost extinct?"

The hall fell silent.

The ancestral witches frowned.

"It's because of the great war between the three races, which caused excessive losses and depleted their fortunes," Zhu Rong said gruffly. "Everyone in the primordial world knows this, so why ask?"

"Why did those three races wage war?" Meng Chuan pressed.

"This..." Zhu Rong was speechless.

"It is a calamity." Zhu Jiuyin spoke slowly, a dark glint flashing in his Time-Bright Eyes. "The three races dominate, burdened by karma, and thus calamity arises. Therefore, a great calamity descends to cause them to fight each other until they perish. This is the workings of the Heavenly Dao, the inevitable trend of the times."

"Indeed, a calamity." Meng Chuan nodded, his gaze slowly sweeping over each of the Ancestral Witches, his voice suddenly turning deep, carrying an almost cruel calm.

"Have you ever considered why the Witch Clan and the Demon Clan, in just tens of thousands of years, went from rising to becoming powerful, to now being sworn enemies, locked in a life-or-death struggle?"

"This..." Dijiang's expression changed slightly.

"It is because the demon race is ambitious and wants to seize the hegemony of the prehistoric world, and has repeatedly invaded my Zhou Mountain!" Gonggong said angrily.

"Why did the demon race choose to be enemies with the witch race?" Meng Chuan continued to ask. "In this vast primordial world, with countless races, why were the witches and demons the only two protagonists in this primordial world?"

"And why... has the conflict between the two races escalated to the point of near collapse, as if an invisible force is pushing them to fight each other endlessly, forging blood feuds until... they are completely at odds, with no possibility of coexistence?"

The atmosphere in the hall suddenly froze.

The ancestral witches paused in their breathing.

They were all seasoned veterans who had fought their way through countless battles and bloodshed, and at this moment, when Meng Chuan pointed at them, they instantly sensed something unusual.

Yes... the Witch Clan and the Demon Clan seem to have been born to be on opposite sides.

From initial localized skirmishes to full-blown conflict, and now to an almost irreconcilable situation... the progress has been too rapid and too logical!

It even became so natural that... it was as if an invisible hand was manipulating things behind the scenes.

"Brother Meng Chuan, what do you mean...?" Di Jiang's voice was hoarse, his bloodshot eyes fixed on Meng Chuan.

Meng Chuan met his gaze, nodded slowly, and uttered the word that made all the Ancestral Witches feel as if they had fallen into an ice cave.

"The Great Tribulation".

"At the beginning of the Dragon-Han Calamity, why did the Dragon, Phoenix, and Qilin clans perish?"

"The Lich Wars will begin with the Lich race and the Demon race."

"boom--!!"

It was as if billions of chaotic divine thunderbolts exploded simultaneously within the souls of the Ancestral Witches!

Dijiang's burly body swayed, and the ground beneath his feet cracked open with a spiderweb-like fissure.

The raging flames surrounding Zhurong suddenly extinguished, leaving only wisps of blue smoke. The black water beneath Gonggong's feet evaporated silently, vanishing into nothingness.

Jumang, Rushou, Xuanming, Qiangliang, Tianwu, Yuezi, Shebishi... Every ancestral witch was pale-faced, their pupils contracted, and their bodies trembled slightly uncontrollably.

For the first time, fear and horror were revealed in Zhu Jiuyin's eyes.

He seemed to see a scene of apocalypse in a tributary of the river of time: mountains of corpses and seas of blood, the extinction of the race, the collapse of Mount Buzhou, and the destruction of the ancestral land!

Her body trembled violently, and her face instantly lost all color.

She suddenly looked up at Meng Chuan, her eyes filled with disbelief, horror, and a desperate plea for confirmation.

"No...impossible!"

Dijiang roared, his voice like that of a wounded beast, "My Wu clan is formed from the essence and blood of our father god, inheriting his legacy, guarding the earth, and managing its veins. What karma is this? What calamity is this?!"

"It has nothing to do with karma, nothing to do with right or wrong." Meng Chuan's voice was calm, but every word was like a knife, dissecting the bloody reality.

"It's only related to 'momentum.' The workings of Heaven require a balance of Yin and Yang, and a replacement of the old with the new. How prosperous were the three clans of Dragon, Phoenix, and Qilin in the past? Where are they now?"

"The Lich and Demon races have replaced the other three races as the main protagonists of the primordial world!"

"As the protagonist, I am destined to stage a grand drama on this primordial stage, a drama that is destined to result in mutual destruction and even mutual annihilation, to make room for those who come after me."

"This is the will of Heaven, and also... the destiny that the Lich and Demon races were destined for from the day they were born!"

The words "final destination" fell like the final death knell, striking the hearts of all the ancestral witches.

Inside the Pangu Hall, there was a deathly silence.

Only heavy, bellows-like breathing and that suppressed, desperate trembling!