Chapter 37: The Demon Race Marches to War

Bai Jing frowned and remarked, "It seems the Demon Race can no longer sit still."

"It must be because we are acquiring merit too quickly. From the Ancestral Witches down to the common clansmen, everyone’s cultivation has improved, and even the overall fortune of our Witch Clan has become more stable. This is certainly not good news for the Demon Race, who aspire to dominate the Primordial World."

Hearing Dijiang’s assessment, Bai Jing nodded in agreement. "I suspect the same. Fellow Daoist Dijiang, I predict the Demon Race will now harass the various tribes of the Witch Clan with even greater frequency. You must prepare early."

"Hmph! Those two feathered curs, Di Jun and Tai Yi, are truly detestable. Were it not for the sake of my younger sister’s primordial spirit, I would have stormed the Heavenly Court by now and plucked every feather from their bodies."

"Fellow Daoist Dijiang, pray do not be impulsive. If one cannot tolerate small grievances, one will ruin great plans."

"I know. Until we help my sister manifest her primordial spirit, our Witch Clan will not act rashly. If only I possessed a primordial spirit, with my current physical body at the late stage of the Hunyuan Golden Immortal realm, I could refine any defensive supreme innate spiritual treasure and ascend to the summit of Mount Buzhou. I would no longer have to endure the insults of the Demon Race."

Bai Jing’s eyes lit up upon hearing this. He had been trapped in a logical fallacy, assuming that he, like the Ancestral Witches, needed to reach the peak of the Hunyuan Golden Immortal realm to ascend the summit of Mount Buzhou.

However, Bai Jing was not a member of the Witch Clan; he possessed a primordial spirit. With the Hongmeng Measuring Ruler and the Origin Yang Cauldron to protect him, he realized that if his physical body could reach the late stage of the Hunyuan Golden Immortal realm, as Dijiang suggested, he would indeed be able to ascend the summit.

Thinking of this, Bai Jing immediately said to Dijiang, "Fellow Daoist Dijiang, why not let me attempt to climb to the summit of Mount Buzhou?"

"But Brother Bai Jing, hasn’t your physical body only just broken through to the mid-stage of the Hunyuan Golden Immortal realm?"

"That is true, but my method of advancement differs from that of the Ancestral Witches. If I am not mistaken, you must wait for the earth meridians of the West to be fully restored to borrow the merit of the Earth Dao to reach the peak, correct?"

Dijiang nodded.

"I estimate that it will take at least seventy or eighty thousand years for the earth meridians of the West to be restored. I am confident that I can reach the late stage of the Hunyuan Golden Immortal realm within fifty thousand years. At that time, with the aid of the Hongmeng Measuring Ruler and the Origin Yang Cauldron, I should be able to reach the summit."

"Brother Bai Jing, can you truly reach the late stage in only fifty thousand years?"

"I certainly can."

"Good! That is wonderful! Then I entrust this matter to you, Fellow Daoist Bai Jing. The sooner we help my sister manifest her primordial spirit, the sooner our Witch Clan can storm the Heavenly Court and vent our grievances!"

Bai Jing smiled and said, "Fellow Daoist Dijiang, do not let your guard down. The Demon Race possesses significant power, so you must continue to diligently comprehend the Twelve Capital Divine Array, and do not neglect the restoration of the western earth meridians. After all, the ultimate goal of restoring the earth meridians is to awaken the Earth Dao and secure a path of retreat for the Witch Clan."

"Rest assured, Brother Bai Jing, I know what must be done."

Bai Jing nodded with a smile, then took his leave of the Ancestral Witches and returned to the Yingzhou Immortal Island to enter seclusion.

Over forty thousand years passed in the blink of an eye.

In the East Sea, on Penglai Immortal Island, where the Immortal Court was located, the Duke of the East stood with his dragon-headed staff, gazing calmly at the void in the distance. Beside him stood the various mighty figures of the Immortal Court.

In the forefront, three Daoists exuded immense pressure, clearly belonging to the Quasi-Saint level. Unlike the Duke of the East, these three did not share his composure; two wore grave expressions, while one paced back and forth like an ant on a hot pan. These three, like the Duke of the East, were among the three thousand who had listened to the sermons at Zixiao Palace. After the Dao Ancestor designated the Duke of the East as the leader of all male immortals, they had befriended him and become the core pillars of the Immortal Court.

"Tian Huo, stop pacing," the only female Daoist among the three said impatiently.

"Xuan Shui, are you not anxious? The Demon Race is about to be at our doorstep!" the Daoist Tian Huo asked, stopping in his tracks.

"Would my anxiety change anything? If I am anxious, will the Demon Race stay away?" the Daoist Xuan Shui retorted.

"Fellow Daoist Tian Huo, Fellow Daoist Xuan Shui is right. It is a foregone conclusion that the Demon Heavenly Court will wage war against our Immortal Court; your anxiety is useless," said the last of the three, the Immortal Ling Gui, unhurriedly.

After listening to their discussion, the Duke of the East sighed softly, closed his eyes again, and stood at the entrance of the Immortal Court, looking up at the sky.

The hot-tempered Tian Huo, seeing the Duke of the East acting as if nothing were wrong, could not help but shout angrily, "Duke of the East, the Demon Race is coming! Why are you not thinking of a solution?"

Since the founding of the Immortal Court, the Demon Race had been probing it. Initially, they only killed minor immortals, but as the Court expanded, the Demon Race’s actions grew increasingly bold, eventually reaching the point where they directly provoked the Duke of the East himself.

The Demon Race pressed forward step by step, with only one goal: to confirm whether the Dao Ancestor would truly intervene for the Duke of the East. After such a long period of probing, the Demon Race had concluded that the Dao Ancestor would not care whether the Duke of the East lived or died.

Since the Dao Ancestor would not intervene, the Duke of the East and the Immortal Court he founded were destined to fall. Di Jun and Tai Yi decided to lead the campaign personally, and the Demon army would arrive at Penglai Immortal Island in a matter of days.

The Immortal Court was, after all, the third-largest power in the Primordial World, and it naturally had its own intelligence network. News that the Demon Race was coming to attack had long since reached Penglai, leading to the scene unfolding now.

Truth be told, the Immortal Court had developed rapidly, but compared to the current Demon Race, it was like a mantis trying to stop a chariot—a futile effort. They were simply not on the same level. Throughout the Primordial World, only the Witch Clan had the strength to confront the Demon Race head-on.

The Duke of the East had considered allying with the Witches, but the Witch Clan seemed uninterested in dominating the world, and his repeated attempts to persuade them had been rebuffed. The Duke was left with no options; he could only hope that the Dao Ancestor would act in a moment of crisis.

Yet, deep down, he knew that relying on the Dao Ancestor was essentially impossible. When the Dao Ancestor announced that he would merge with the Heavenly Dao and would not return to the Primordial World unless an immeasurable catastrophe occurred, the Duke of the East knew the game was over.

He did not believe that the fall of himself and his Immortal Court could compare to an immeasurable catastrophe. When such a catastrophe arrived, the entire world would be destroyed; the Dao Ancestor’s declaration clearly meant that he would not appear unless the world faced total destruction.

The fall of the Immortal Court was of no consequence to the world, so how could it possibly disturb the Dao Ancestor? Perhaps the Dao Ancestor had long since forgotten about his "leader of male immortals." After all, beneath the Saints, all are ants—how could the Dao Ancestor keep a single ant in mind?

With this thought, the Duke of the East heaved another long sigh, truly finding himself without any way out of the current predicament.