Chapter 158: The Twelve Heavenly Gods of Fierce Might

At the single command of "Let the wind rise," a wind came into being capable of melting away mortal flesh. This was no ordinary wind, but the Divine Wind of the Nine Heavens, able to reduce all living things to dust. At the command of "Let the rain fall," torrential downpours broke out. Neither was this ordinary rain, but the very essence of water existing between heaven and earth. Every single drop weighed as heavy as a mountain; to touch it meant the immediate annihilation of the physical body, leaving the spirit wounded and the soul in turmoil. This was the renowned art of "Summoning Wind and Rain" of the Primordial Era. The name echoed thunderously across the expanse, yet truly few had ever laid eyes upon it; most had merely heard the title and devised their own spells based on their meager interpretations.

Nan Luo had once witnessed Daoist Yuanji execute half of this summoning art within the Yangping clan, but the momentum and crushing pressure of that display were inferior to the current execution by Shebi by more than a thousandfold... Nan Luo did not know that this was the true art of "Summoning Wind and Rain"; he only knew that Meng Ziyi was in danger—and not just any ordinary danger. The combined might of the three Ancestral Witches casting a spell together had multiplied manifold. If he had previously been able to sense the rhythm of heaven and earth, now even heaven and earth themselves had become indistinguishable.

All around stretched an endless expanse of darkness. Within the gloom, fierce gales roared and torrential rains poured, intermingled with swirling, drifting snowflakes.

The wind, the rain, and the snow came from no known source and headed toward no discernible destination. It was as if this pocket of space had formed its own universe, where wind, rain, and snow cycled endlessly without distinction between heaven and earth, without the manifestation of sun, moon, or stars, and devoid of the alternating seasons of yin and yang... Even time seemed disordered, and space appeared to have broken away from the Great Chiliocosm.

The Qingyan Sword transformed into a silver wave, floating within the hellish prison forged by Dijiang. Tumbling amidst the violent gales, torrential rains, and fluttering snowflakes, it remained seemingly unharmed. Its rotations carried a wondrous, mysterious rhythm that slowly harmonized with the inverted and disordered space created by the three Ancestral Witches.

To Haotian and the others, this region of space appeared merely as a ball of black vapor, within which everything was obscured, save for the palpable terror and violent upheaval of that realm. With solemn expressions, one of them could not help asking, "Could that be the legendary Mount Wuxie, said to remain unscathed even if heaven and earth should collapse?"

Haotian nodded slightly and replied, "That heaven and earth would collapse and it would remain untouched is an exaggeration, yet it is not entirely untrue... Because no one has ever been willing to test it, whether it can truly escape unharmed remains uncertain, but under normal circumstances, surely nothing in the world could harm Mount Wuxie by even a fraction."

"And what of now?" another companion asked from behind.

Haotian narrowed his eyes slightly, his voice sounding ethereal as he said, "Now, however, everything is different. Everything has changed, and heaven and earth are no longer what they once were. The wheel of reincarnation has been thrown into chaos, or perhaps seized and partitioned by the supreme mystical beings of this world..."

"Then she?"

"She is the master of Mount Wuxie."

Just as they spoke, a crisp yet indignant voice belonging to Meng Ziyi rang out from within the sealed space forged by the three Ancestral Witches: "Do you truly believe you can refine and control Mount Wuxie by such means? Do not assume that because you were born alongside heaven and earth and command a portion of its laws, you are the true masters of creation. Should anyone ever succeed in subduing Mount Wuxie, that very day shall mark the extinction of the Wu tribe across the realm. Before the eternal wheel of reincarnation, all living things shall ultimately be reduced to nothingness."

No reply came from the Ancestral Witches, only a boundless, terrifying aura that cowed the world... The battle was currently altering the weather across tens of thousands of miles. Spiritual energy swirled in chaos, and an inexplicable dread gripped the hearts of those in secluded cultivation, causing many to lose their composure and suffer damage to their spiritual souls.

Compared to when Nan Luo had sensed the great battle of the three clans atop Mount Buzhou hundreds of millions of miles away while within the Yangping clan, this was somewhat lesser in scale, yet its impact within a radius of tens of thousands of miles was profound. The divine might of the Wu Ancestral Witches seemed capable of piercing the soul, and that terrifying pressure permeated heaven and earth, possessing the power to capture spirits and seize minds.

Atop a mountain peak three hundred miles away, the six individuals gathered there could all be considered practitioners of profound magical power among mankind. Yet, watching from afar, every single one of them—save for Haotian—wore a grim expression... One among them remarked, "The Ancestral Witches of the Wu tribe are truly formidable. With their forces combined, their might reaches such heights. Back when the Eastern Emperor Taiyi fought four Ancestral Witches single-handedly, one could already perceive the unfathomable depths of the Dao of Saints."

Haotian sighed softly and said, "The Wu tribe and many other creatures of heaven and earth indeed possess innate advantages, but whether those advantages can be sustained ultimately depends upon themselves. Perhaps humankind is still weak and fragile in their eyes, vulnerable to a single blow; but a myriad of years from now—a myriad of years hence—let us see whether the masters of today's world remain high and mighty. Yet, many are destined to fall and perish in the span of those years."

"Are you speaking of Nan Luo?"

Haotian did not answer immediately. After a brief silence, he said, "The Ancestral Witches possess an innate communion with heaven and earth, mastering a formation known as the Twelve Divine Fiends Heavenly Qi Array. This formation can only be deployed by the Ancestral Witches of the Wu tribe. Once completed, it creates a realm unto itself, one that even the Eastern Emperor Dijun found difficult to counter... And right now, the three of them have deployed this very formation. Though there are only three, they have already forged an independent realm. To break free from it now will be arduous beyond measure."

Silence descended. Aside from the roaring shockwaves rolling in from three hundred miles away, stillness reigned. Although Haotian did not explicitly state what would happen to Nan Luo, his words implied the outcome clearly. For all of humankind, for one who had reached Nan Luo's heights to fall would be a profound loss... And yet, they were forced to stand here and watch such a human paragon perish, entirely powerless to intervene.

At that very moment, a fissure suddenly split the nine heavens, from which a crimson glow flickered. A monstrous aura of slaughter spilled forth from the crack, and the gloomy sky, unable to bear the weight of this bloodthirsty intent, instantly collapsed. Torrents of blood poured down from the heavens, crashing directly into the realm constructed by the three Ancestral Witches via their grand formation.

The heavens fractured, and rivers of blood inundated the earth. Countless mortals, witnessing this spectacle, immediately knelt to worship heaven and earth, praying for the safety of their tribes. The reclusive cultivators scattered across the mountains naturally recognized this as a clash between supreme mystical entities. They frantically searched their memories for renowned figures of the world, yet none matched this description... To appear amidst waves of blood and project such a terrifying aura of slaughter was unprecedented and unheard of.

Those slightly closer immediately took flight, soaring far into the distance, terrified of being caught in the aftermath.

Yet many others, upon catching sight of the cascading waves of blood plunging from the nine heavens, cried out in alarm, "The River of Blood, the Demonic Butterfly—it is that River of Blood capable of devouring all living souls."

The bloodwaters poured down with a momentum far exceeding that when it was restrained by the Reincarnation Brush. If it had been called a river before, it now deserved to be named a sea of blood. In the blink of an eye, it had completely submerged that realm...

The realm that had just been radiating a mountain-toppling, terrifying pressure was now swallowed whole by the sea of blood. Surging crimson waves rolled, their crashing sounds echoing like the roars of demons. Within the blood-red current, endless demonic entities seemed to swim and writhe.

"That is... that is the earlier River of Blood."

The six individuals standing over three hundred miles away had long since retreated a thousand miles back. Seeing the heaven-shaking sea of blood, one of them could barely speak in astonishment.

"Indeed, this is the true majesty that the River of Styx should possess," Haotian said, his gaze fixed piercingly upon the blood river.

"What manner of existence is that River of Blood? It seems even superior to the Ancestral Witches of the Wu tribe," someone asked in shock and confusion.

"Legend has it that where the yin and yang converge between heaven and earth, a River of Blood was formed—mysterious and eerie, gathering the ultimate forces of yin and evil in creation. Countless beings are mysteriously drawn to cast themselves into it, transforming into unique demonic entities native to the river. Over long ages, they may even take human form, possessing bizarre and unfathomable powers. Once they attain form, they bypass the cycle of reincarnation, remaining unbound by the hidden laws of the Great Dao. Yet they are bound by a single restriction: they cannot stray far from the River of Blood for long, lest their powers drastically wane. Should they fail to return within a designated time, their souls and spirits will be utterly pulverized, vanishing from heaven and earth."

As Haotian spoke, the River of Blood suddenly shifted. A blood-red butterfly emerged from the churning waves, flapping its wings gently above the crimson sea to transform into a woman clad in scarlet robes. Though her countenance was breathtakingly beautiful, the chilling aura of bloodlust radiating from her deterred anyone from looking too closely.

The moment she assumed human form, countless demonic entities within the blood sea churned the crimson tide, raising a chorus of roars and howls.

"Roar... Roar..."

Suddenly, she opened her lips and chanted, "Lost souls, return..."

Her voice carried an infinite, magical enchantment, drifting outward and traveling immense distances. In an instant, countless creatures surged toward the River of Blood. Those blood-corpses that had previously scattered in all directions, regardless of whether they were fighting or wandering, instantly wheeled around and sprinted toward the sea of blood.

If one were to look down from the nine heavens, they would see an endless tide of living beings converging from all directions toward the center of the crimson sea.

It was like a pilgrimage, or a journey to worship the Great Dao itself.