Chapter Sixty-Five: The True Form of Pangu

“Summon the Human Envoy!”

After a moment’s contemplation, Li Tian made his decision.

“Your Majesty,” the herald stepped forward at once, imperial edict in hand, ready to record the decree.

“From this day forth, no human shall slay any member of the divine race or their kin. Any violation shall be repaid with life.” Li Tian’s voice was calm as he spoke.

When he finished, he waved his hand, conjuring the Seal of Heaven, then pressed it upon the edict the herald had just inscribed.

Henceforth, the decree was in effect.

With this order in place, Li Tian believed the human race would exercise greater restraint; such incidents would surely dwindle until, in time, the demon race would vanish from the currents of history altogether...

“Your Majesty,”

Qing Ji and the others, seeing this edict, immediately realized Li Tian intended to draw a line under the matter and grew anxious.

Li Tian frowned. “Say no more. What has passed is as much the fault of the Celestial Court... Let us do this instead...”

After a moment’s thought, he drew from his storage treasure an innate spiritual sword—the very one he had bestowed upon Dafeng previously.

“I see your cultivation has reached the peak of Golden Immortal and your foundation is steady. I grant you this innate spiritual treasure to aid in your quest for transcendence. Let this be compensation for what has transpired. What say you?”

Qing Ji stared at the treasure floating before him, radiating a subtle aura of power, torn with indecision.

Should he accept it or not?

He was sorely tempted—for with this sword, he stood a nine-in-ten chance of advancing to quasi-sainthood, entering an entirely new realm...

Yet to accept would be to admit his mother had died in vain.

But glancing up at Li Tian, Qing Ji gritted his teeth, and in the end accepted the sword with both hands, bowing low. “Thank you, Your Majesty, for this gift.”

For he saw in Li Tian’s eyes an unbending will—a fate he could not alter no matter what he chose.

Better, then, to acquiesce.

Li Tian nodded, satisfied.

At least Qing Ji showed sense, sparing him further trouble.

“Dismiss yourselves.”

With a sweep of his sleeve, Li Tian turned and left the Hall of Highest Heaven.

As for the opinions of the others besides Qing Ji?

He scoffed inwardly. They were but lesser gods—Golden Immortals and Taiyi Golden Immortals—without a leader, what waves could they possibly stir?

...

“That sword—didn't you give it to Dafeng before?”

Nuwa followed Li Tian back to the Palace of Infinity, her tone curious.

“Yes, but now it has returned.” Li Tian smiled, offering no further explanation.

He approached Nuwa, gently wrapping his arms around her slender waist.

“What are you up to now...” Nuwa’s cheeks colored the instant she understood his intent.

“What do you think, my beautiful and noble Empress...” Li Tian laughed, lowering his head to breathe in her fragrance, savoring it.

With a gentle strength, he lifted Nuwa fully into his arms and strode toward the inner chambers, casting a formation as he went to shield them from the eyes of fate.

...

After their passionate union, Li Tian held Nuwa close and briefly explained Dafeng’s origins.

He did not go into detail, merely saying that Dafeng hailed from a world wholly unlike the Great Desolation, carrying secret motives... and so on.

Nuwa did not press for more, though she was startled to learn that worlds existed beyond their own. Upon reflection, she found it reasonable.

After all, chaos was vast and boundless. That other worlds might lie beyond its endless shores was not so hard to accept.

...

For many years thereafter, the Celestial Court was cloaked in peace. Occasional trifling matters were handled by high ministers, requiring none of Li Tian’s attention.

Countless ages passed. Under the environment Li Tian had deliberately fostered, humanity flourished without rivals, expanding at a relentless pace. Their numbers surged constantly, like a clockwork machine wound tight.

Now, beneath the rule of the Celestial Court, there were few places untouched by humankind. Even in the ancestral lands of the Wu tribe, there could be found faint traces of human settlements.

...

Now, as the era spoken of by Hongjun drew near, anxiety gripped the Wu tribe.

Since Nuwa and Li Tian attained sainthood, the Twelve Ancestral Witches had felt the pressure and ceased producing offspring, devoting all efforts to refining their cultivation.

At the same time, they studied the Twelve Heavenly Gods and Demons Formation, striving to summon the true form of Pangu.

After all, this was their sole hope of resisting the Celestial Court.

...

On this day, in the Hall of Pangu, the twelve witches opened their eyes in unison after years of silent meditation, a crimson gleam flashing within.

With a series of thunderous booms, the twelve transformed into their true forms—beasts of every shape and size, each colossal, each exuding a strange, blood-red aura of slaughter.

“Twelve Heavenly Gods and Demons, arise!”

Their voices rang out together, reverberating like thunder for millions of miles. All living things within earshot trembled in awe.

At the same moment, a terrifying pressure issued forth from the gathering of the Twelve Witches. The sky grew dark with clouds, endless waves of bloody energy surged.

Thunder rolled—wrath of the heavens.

With a mighty shout, a blood-red giant suffused with murderous energy materialized, strange runes flickering across his form, echoing the features of the Twelve Witches’ true selves.

“Wu! Wu! Wu! Wu! Wu!”

Throughout the Great Desolation, every member of the Wu tribe felt a stirring in their blood and soul, dropping what they held to raise their voices in a collective howl toward the sky.

Those closest to Pangu Hall—especially the followers of the Faith of All Life—were the first to feel the surge of power, their spirits shaken to the core.

Jieyin’s face grew even more sorrowful. Closing his eyes, he murmured, “Alas, alas.”

Kunpeng was overwhelmed by the force unleashed. Was it possible for anyone, save the Saints, to wield such strength?

...

In the west, Zhunti opened his eyes from meditation. With a divination, he saw that war between the Celestial Court and the Wu tribe was at hand and began to scheme in secret... Yet soon after, he shook his head and returned to his stillness.

At Kunlun Mountain, Yuanshi awoke from seclusion. His gaze pierced every barrier with ease, observing the Wu tribe’s domain. After a moment, he shook his head and withdrew his sight.

“The Wu tribe—truly favored by Heaven, born of Pangu’s blood. To achieve such might through flesh alone... Yet without sainthood, it is all but illusion...”

At Shouyang Mountain, Laozi, too, opened his eyes. But his expression showed little emotion. He gazed long toward the Wu tribe before closing his eyes once more.

On Penglai Island, Tongtian ceased his teaching, his eyes piercing the endless barriers as he murmured softly, “It seems the Great Desolation is poised for another storm...”

Within the Celestial Court, countless mighty beings were shaken, hastening to investigate the lower realms. Upon learning the commotion originated from the Wu tribe, each harbored secret thoughts.

All sensed what was to come.

The war between the Celestial Court and the Wu tribe was drawing near...

Yet none doubted the Celestial Court’s victory.

After all, it had two Saints to guard it.