Chapter 9: The Sorcerer Clan Possessing a Primordial Spirit!

“The method by which the Pangu Pool brings forth life?”

The Twelve Ancestral Shamans were all taken aback, not expecting Emperor Cang to raise such a question.

Ancestral Shaman Dijang said, “Is this question related to the Eight Eternal Laws you mentioned for subduing the primordial world? If not, let us first discuss those laws, and only afterward address the matter of descendants.”

“It is very much related,” Emperor Cang replied gravely. “Among the Eight Eternal Laws I speak of, the third is of utmost importance. And that third law is propagation.”

“Oh?” The Twelve Ancestral Shamans asked in surprise, “What do you mean by propagation?”

Emperor Cang smiled. “To rule the primordial world, talented people are indispensable. No matter how wisely we judge others, reward and punish, in the end, the myriad creatures of this realm may still not serve us. However, if they are of our own shaman lineage, they certainly will.”

“Therefore!” Emperor Cang continued, “We must ensure that our shaman clan possesses a solid foundation. In other words, the more clansmen we have, and the stronger they are, the better!”

“To have enough clansmen, we must propagate!”

“Indeed!” The Twelve Ancestral Shamans readily agreed after hearing this.

Ancestral Shaman Dijang said, “From the start, my intention in using the Pangu Pool to bring forth four hundred and eighty million shamans was precisely this.”

“Then, Emperor Cang, do you mean,” Dijang continued, “that we should still choose to create four hundred and eighty million shamans, but instead hide them away and secretly nurture them?”

Emperor Cang replied sincerely, “The general idea is sound, but the method of bringing forth life must be refined!”

“I need to know exactly how our clansmen are brought forth.”

“Only then,” Emperor Cang said, “can I propose the best way for our race to flourish!”

“That is simple!” With a wave of his hand, Ancestral Shaman Dijang brought Emperor Cang and the other eleven Ancestral Shamans to the Pangu Pool.

Before them spread an endless sea of blood-red waves.

Though it was called a pool, what Emperor Cang beheld was not a pond at all, but a boundless ocean.

...

At Dijang’s urging, the Pangu Pool—more a divine sea—began to glow with a crimson light as if a blood-red sun had risen. Countless runes shimmered across its surface.

Just as Emperor Cang’s ancient mirror was formed from Pangu’s celestial eye and filled with countless runes and a spiritual artifact-refining technique, so too was the Pangu Pool transformed from the heart chamber that stored Pangu’s blood. It too was a supreme treasure, giving rise to myriad runes and containing a spiritual technique for nurturing treasures.

Empowered by the ancestral shamans’ years of study, the runes flared, and the Pangu Pool surged with boundless might, as if an ancient god, capable of destroying heaven and earth, was awakening before Emperor Cang’s eyes.

Dijang said, “The Pangu Pool contains the spiritual art of refining treasures, divided into nine levels.”

“Master the first, and you can draw upon the pool’s power to absorb earth veins and refine the Father God’s blood essence. In roughly thirteen years, you can obtain a single drop.”

“Master the second, and you may use the pool’s power to separate blood essence into yin and yang.”

“Thus,” Dijang smiled, “by combining the Father God’s yang blood with the Goddess’s yin blood, a new shaman can be created; likewise, by joining the Father God’s yin blood with the God’s yang blood, another new shaman may be shaped.”

“Of course,” Dijang added, “the Pangu Pool can also blend yin and yang forces directly to create new shamans.”

“Our strength is limited, and our inherited blood is not as potent as the Father God’s. If we wish to create the mightiest shaman warriors, we must use the third method—combining the Father God’s own yang and yin blood.”

“This,” Dijang explained, “is why we believe the blood within the Pangu Pool can give rise to only four hundred and eighty million shamans.”

“Cang,” Dijang asked, “what is your opinion?”

After some thought, Emperor Cang replied, “By common sense, Dijang’s reasoning is correct: merging the Father God’s own yang and yin blood should yield the greatest warriors. But that is only our conjecture.”

“An untested principle cannot be called truth,” Emperor Cang said. “Ancestral Shamans, I boldly request three thousand portions of blood from the Pangu Pool, to create three thousand of my own clansmen. At the same time, let the Ancestral Shamans use the pool’s blood to bring forth three thousand warriors born of both yin and yang. After one cosmic era, let us compare the two lines in terms of propagation and cultivation potential. Would you allow this?”

“What do you mean by that?” For the first time, Dijang frowned. “You think the offspring birthed from the Father God’s own blood will be inferior to those of a lowly shaman like yourself?”

Emperor Cang smiled. “I have heard that the Dragon Ancestor used the Dragon Transformation Pool and the chaotic dragon god’s blood to produce countless dragons. Yet, though the dragon race is numerous, true powerhouses are few. On the other hand, when the Dragon Ancestor mingled his blood with that of nine other races, he fathered nine sons, each extraordinary—hence the saying, ‘A dragon sires nine sons, each unique.’”

“Ancestral Shamans!” Emperor Cang pressed on. “The Father God’s blood is a precious legacy. Why not try, and decide after seeing the results?”

Even Hou Tu could not help but shake her head.

The Twelve Ancestral Shamans exchanged glances and shook their heads as well.

“There is no need to try,” said Ancestral Shaman Zhu Jiuyin. “The Father God’s blood naturally produces the best shamans. Should ordinary shamans, when combined with the Father God’s blood, surpass what the Father God’s blood achieves on its own, would that not overturn the natural order?”

Emperor Cang, using his celestial eye to read their expressions, knew his words alone could not persuade them.

After some deliberation, Emperor Cang said earnestly, “To be frank, I am not worried about the strength of these new clansmen, but rather that they may possess only physical might and lack the power of the primordial spirit. If so, their potential would be greatly diminished.”

He continued solemnly, “I have a method that can endow newborn ancestral shamans with primordial spirits, vastly increasing their potential!”

“What?” The Twelve Ancestral Shamans all changed expression at once.

They looked at one another, each stunned.

Only after a long pause did Hou Tu recover, exclaiming in shock, “Cang, are you saying you can create shamans with primordial spirits? How could that be possible?”

The Twelve Ancestral Shamans were no fools.

They understood at a glance the vast difference between shamans with primordial spirits and those without. The former held infinite possibilities, resembling the Father God and even having hope of reaching his heights. Even if they could not become the Father God in full, they might achieve some measure of his greatness.

Without a primordial spirit, no amount of cultivation could truly make one akin to the Father God.

This was a truth so obvious that even a fool would understand—let alone the Twelve Ancestral Shamans.