Chapter 6: The Twelve Ancestor Witches
In the blink of an eye, a full millennium had passed.
It had been a thousand years since Di Cang traversed into the world of the Great Desolation. Over this vast stretch of time, he had devoted himself to cultivation, never daring to slacken for even a moment.
First, the Divine Demon Physique Refinement—Ninefold Profound Art—was driven by his relentless effort to the pinnacle of the first stage in one breath. With this breakthrough, his cultivation transformed, advancing him to the second stage of the Ninefold Profound Art.
At present, Di Cang’s cultivation stood at the “Heavenly Deity Realm” among physique cultivators, equivalent to the “Celestial Immortal Realm” in the orthodox path of immortality.
Next, the Spirit-Communing Treasure Refinement Technique—he had progressed this to the second layer. At the center of his physical treasure body’s brow, he had condensed the complete runes of the first layer and partial runes of the second. He could thereby manifest the Pangu Celestial Eye Divine Power and wield the Ancient Mirror of Time and Space in his hand, capable of sealing time and space, momentarily locking down even the attacks and combat arts of those at the True God Realm, wielding the power to freeze time itself.
Most importantly, through the boundless foundational runes bestowed by the Mirror of Time and Space, Di Cang honed his spirit, forcibly evolving his spiritual power into countless densely intertwined Great Dao runes.
Contemplating the heavens and earth, he used the power of runes to absorb the innate pure energy, ceaselessly refining his spiritual might, striving to forge his spirit into the embryo of the Great Dao, to refine the Great Dao Golden Core, and then to nurture his own primordial spirit from within…
Though this was a path he had conceived himself, the abundance of innate pure energy in the world of the Great Desolation was so overwhelming that, even if a pig merely breathed within it each day, it had some chance, by drawing upon the essence of heaven and earth, to nurture a pig demon’s spirit and transform into a true demon boar—let alone Di Cang, who refined his primordial spirit through the path of runes. It was extraordinary beyond compare!
To Di Cang’s immense delight, after a thousand years, not only had his spirit forged countless Great Dao runes, but, just as he had anticipated, it had begun to undergo a transformation: his spiritual power was gathering together, on the verge of coalescing into an “embryo.” In the future, it would not be difficult for this “embryo” to nurture a “Golden Core,” and ultimately give birth to his own primordial spirit.
“My flesh has transformed, I command spirit treasures, and my self-created primordial spirit path is on track!”
Di Cang carefully sensed the changes in himself over the past millennium, and soon possessed an entirely new understanding of his current power. At this moment, he was deeply satisfied with these thousand years of cultivation.
...
Suddenly, Di Cang felt twelve earth-shattering auras descend from the Nine Heavens above.
“The Twelve Ancestral Shamans?”
His expression changed slightly.
Though he had never met the Twelve Ancestral Shamans, within his bloodline lingered their ancestral marks. How could he not know or recognize them? Merely sensing their presence, he knew exactly who had arrived.
Indeed.
The moment the thought crossed his mind, he heard Kuafu the Great Shaman’s voice ring out, brimming with joy, “The Ancestral Shamans have returned! Let us go forth at once to greet them!”
The words had barely left Kuafu’s lips.
Immediately, within the Hall of Pangu, a surge of energy arose—one hundred and eight magnificent auras surged madly, shaking the eight directions.
Yes.
A full one hundred and eight Great Shamans, one hundred and eight Golden Gods.
A thousand years ago, when Di Cang first arrived, there had been only four newly formed Great Shamans in the Hall of Pangu. Now, a millennium later, the remaining Great Shamans had all taken human form: every one of the hundred and eight had emerged.
One hundred and eight Golden Gods—the equivalent of the Golden Immortal Realm among divine demon physique cultivators—rose simultaneously, striding powerfully toward the gates of the Hall of Pangu, their expressions solemn as they moved forth to welcome the visitors.
Di Cang considered for a moment, then also rose, releasing the aura of his initial Heavenly Deity cultivation and joining his companions in greeting the arrivals.
It must be said—
A striking individual stands out anywhere.
The Witch Tribe’s battle form, after manifesting the Heaven-Earth Phenomenon, dwarfed ordinary mortals. The tribe was accustomed to cultivating in this state.
Great Shamans were Golden Gods, at the fifth stage of the Ninefold Profound Art.
For the Witch Tribe, the first stage of the Ninefold Profound Art made the battle form nine times the size of a human; the second stage, eighty-one times; and so on...
So, as one hundred and eight mountainous figures advanced to greet the newcomers, the will of the Twelve Ancestral Shamans instantly noticed the one figure—Di Cang—whose cultivation was only at the second stage of the Ninefold Profound Art, appearing as tiny as an ant among giants...
“Eh?”
Di Jiang, leader of the Twelve Ancestral Shamans, almost doubted his own sight, scanning the surrounding Great Shamans carefully and counting them one by one to ensure there was no mistake.
“One hundred and eight Great Shamans, but there’s an extra—this extra one is merely at the Heavenly Deity level, a mere fledgling!”
After pondering a moment, Di Jiang turned to the other Ancestral Shamans and said, “Could it be that, within the Pangu Pool, besides the one hundred and eight drops of powerful Great Shaman blood essence, there was some ordinary divine blood as well, which gained sentience and thus produced such a feeble little being?”
A woman in bright yellow among the Twelve Ancestral Shamans smiled and said, “Most likely, he gained great fortune, perhaps through some innate spirit treasure, allowing him to ascend from the mortal to the sacred, gaining intelligence against the natural order.”
“Indeed!”
The other Ancestral Shamans nodded. “We can sense the aura of a treasure on this youngster—ordinary divine blood, blessed with great luck and fortune, managed to take shape before its time, resulting in an extra among the one hundred and eight Great Shamans?”
Once they understood, the Twelve Ancestral Shamans paid him no further heed.
The fortune of a mere Heavenly Deity junior was beneath their notice.
...
Sweeping his gaze over the one hundred and eight Great Shamans, Di Jiang, chief of the Ancestral Shamans, smiled after a moment’s thought and said, “During our travels across the Great Desolation, we have roamed the boundless land, endless mountains and countless territories, encountering many astonishing innate spirit roots and treasures, as well as the artifact-forging arts of the Dragon, Phoenix, and Qilin tribes. Truly, there is no end to these roots, opportunities, and treasures.”
With his words, each of the Twelve Ancestral Shamans took out a number of treasures—innate spirit fruits, divine materials for forging, divine demon essences…
The Twelve Ancestral Shamans were generous, bestowing a share of treasures upon each of the hundred and nine before them.
Once again, Di Cang received unearned rewards—a corpse of a True Phoenix at the Da Luo level, and a piece of Nine Heavens Divine Jade suitable for forging a postnatal spirit treasure sword.
He activated the Ancient Mirror of Time and Space to stow the treasures away.
He had no qualms about displaying his power; after all, each of the hundred and eight Great Shamans had their own unique gifts—he too must have abilities of his own.
Within the Hall of Pangu, every Great Shaman was laden with gifts, full of gratitude and joy.
Seeing everyone so delighted, Di Jiang, the chief Ancestral Shaman, suddenly spoke again, his tone shifting: “This journey has indeed brought us great bounty. Yet, after witnessing the vastness and richness of the Great Desolation—now that the Dragon, Phoenix, and Qilin tribes have declined and retreated—there is no longer a single powerful being to rise and rule over this immense land…”
“Others may turn a blind eye, but we of the Witch Tribe cannot!”
Di Jiang proclaimed loudly, “I wish to lead our Witch Tribe out of Buzhou Mountain, to forever guard the Great Desolation in place of our Father God. What say you all?”