Chapter Fifteen: Return to the Abbot’s Chamber, the Rise of the Three Clans

The more Hongjun pondered, the more perplexed he became. It was already within the bounds of comprehension that Chenxing had achieved the level of a Great Dao Saint, but that this accomplishment lay outside the three thousand laws was utterly beyond Hongjun’s understanding. Moreover, there was even the possibility that Chenxing stood above the Great Dao Saints themselves—this notion sent Hongjun’s mind reeling, and a subtle demonic obsession began to take root in his heart.

A thunderous shout abruptly rang in Hongjun’s ear, snapping his soul back from the brink of possession. Startled, cold sweat broke out across his brow. He hurriedly bowed deeply to Chenxing and said respectfully, “Thank you for your guidance, elder. Had it not been for your timely intervention, I would have been lost for all eternity.”

Chenxing smiled gently and addressed Hongjun: “The myriad worlds of the Primal Chaos are vast beyond measure. You fixate only on the Great Desolation—how narrow a view that is, how much you underestimate all sentient beings. When your destined opportunity comes, all will become clear. There is no need to fret over present gains or losses.”

Hongjun was struck with sudden enlightenment, realizing he had become entangled in his own obsessions. He bowed deeply to Chenxing again. “I am deeply grateful for your guidance, elder.”

The exchange between the two was utterly incomprehensible to Fuxi and his sister; moreover, the crucial parts of their conversation were transmitted by thought alone, leaving the siblings all the more bewildered, unable to grasp the meaning.

Chenxing looked at the two but said little, merely offering, “You siblings have your own destinies ahead. When the time comes, you’ll understand for yourselves—do not ask further!” With that, he dismissed them, paying no mind to their speechless expressions.

“I have traveled the Great Desolation with Little Demon for several millennia now—it is time to return home. I wonder if you would care to visit my abode? I would clear a place to welcome you. To discuss the Dao daily with fellow seekers—what greater joy could there be?” With Little Demon’s hand in his, Chenxing stood and addressed Hongjun, Fuxi, and Nüwa.

As he finished, he cast a meaningful look at Nüwa. Her cheeks flushed crimson at his unusual gaze and she turned away shyly.

Seeing her reaction, Chenxing was momentarily at a loss. He had merely intended to give her something from Fangzhang Island that would greatly benefit her and the humans she would one day create, but she clearly misunderstood his intentions. He saw no need to explain and turned instead to Fuxi and Hongjun.

The two were overjoyed. To discuss the Dao with such a remarkable figure as Chenxing was a rare blessing—how could they refuse? They rose and bowed deeply. “With such an invitation, how dare we decline?”

...

Leaving aside Chenxing and his companions’ return to Fangzhang Island, let us turn to the world after the great calamity of the ferocious beasts. The land of the Great Desolation gradually returned to peace.

Yet, that catastrophe had awakened ambitions in some that had never existed before.

Ten thousand years later, the coexistence of hundreds of tribes on the Great Desolation began to shift.

One day, in the Dragon Palace of the Eastern Sea, the Ancestral Dragon sat high upon his throne, gazing down upon the assembled elite of the dragon clan. His resounding voice filled the hall: “I wish to lead the aquatic races of the Great Desolation and bring you all to dominance—what counsel do you have?”

A burly man at the front stepped forward, cupped his hands and declared, “Elder brother, as the Ancestral Dragon, you are favored by the Dao of Heaven. You should indeed lead all aquatic races and establish an eternal legacy for our dragon clan. I, Candle Dragon, pledge my life in your service.” With that, he bowed low—the mightiest beneath the Ancestral Dragon, none other than Candle Dragon himself.

Behind him, the assembled dragon elites also bowed low in unison. “The dragon clan should indeed reign supreme in the Great Desolation. We will follow the Ancestral Dragon to unify all under heaven!”

The Ancestral Dragon threw back his head and laughed uproariously. He soared into the sky, his voice echoing across the heavens: “Today, I, the Ancestral Dragon, pledge to lead the dragon clan and command the countless aquatic races, bringing prosperity to all aquatic beings. Let Heaven bear witness!”

A pillar of light descended from the sky, enveloping the Ancestral Dragon. His cultivation, already at the late stage of Da Luo Golden Immortal, soared in an instant—to the peak of Da Luo, to the perfected Da Luo, to the early Quasi-Saint, to the peak of early Quasi-Saint...

...

His cultivation only ceased to grow when he reached the middle stage of Quasi-Saint. The Ancestral Dragon transformed into a hundred-zhang-long, nine-clawed golden dragon, weaving through the heavens, his roar shaking the Great Desolation.

At the very moment when the Ancestral Dragon made his vow and received the Dao of Heaven’s acknowledgment and blessing, a phoenix cry resounded across the southern lands. A voice echoed through the world: “Today, I, the Phoenix Ancestor, pledge to lead the phoenix race and command the myriad birds of the Great Desolation, bringing fortune to all winged tribes. Let Heaven bear witness!”

As the words faded, a pillar of light descended upon the Phoenix Ancestor, raising her cultivation as well to the middle stage of Quasi-Saint.

Simultaneously, in the heart of the Great Desolation, a deep voice resounded: “Today, I, the Qilin Ancestor, pledge to lead the qilin race and command the countless beasts of the land, bringing prosperity to all beasts. Let Heaven bear witness!” In like manner, a pillar of merit from the Dao of Heaven descended upon the Qilin Ancestor, raising his cultivation to the middle stage of Quasi-Saint.

Witnessing this, the Ancestral Dragon was consumed by rage. He had thought that by making his vow, gaining merit, and advancing in cultivation, he could lead the dragon clan to dominance. He had not foreseen that the Phoenix and Qilin Ancestors would likewise gain such advancement, turning what should have been his sole supremacy into a tripartite standoff.

From then on, the three clans each consolidated their tribes and began expanding their territories. The sentient beings of the Great Desolation were thrown into panic, seeking remote places to cultivate and avoid conflict with the three clans.

In the blink of an eye, tens of thousands of years passed. The dragon clan, leading the aquatic races, dominated the four seas and struck terror into the heart of the Desolation’s waters.

The phoenix clan, under the Phoenix Ancestor, unified the birds of the Desolation, using the Immortal Volcano as their stronghold and expanding their domain by billions of miles, ruling the southern lands.

The qilin clan, using Buzhou Mountain as their ancestral land, unified the beasts and, centered on Buzhou, dominated an area of billions of miles, their might earth-shaking.

Under the leadership of the Ancestral Dragon, Phoenix Ancestor, and Qilin Ancestor, the three clans shook the land, unrivaled in splendor.

...

While the three clans’ prestige reverberated through the land, in the western reaches of the Great Desolation, the demon clan’s headquarters, the Demon Ancestor Rahu, sat cross-legged atop the Twelve-Petal World-Destroying Black Lotus. Behind him, the Godslayer Spear stood upright in the void, its tip emitting rays of black light, as if to pierce the heavens.

Below, thousands of demons, their forms hidden within black robes, bowed their heads in reverent obedience.

“From this day forth, you are to infiltrate the three clans, sow discord among them, and under no circumstances reveal yourselves. When the time comes for the demon clan to rise, you will know what to do if you are discovered—need I say more?” A chilling gleam flashed in Rahu’s eyes.

The assembled demons responded as one: “Yes, Lord Demon Ancestor!”

Rahu waved them away. As his followers withdrew, his mind wandered back to the great war against the fierce beasts—to the hand that had hurled him into chaos, to Shen Ni’s words as the Godslayer Spear pierced his chest: “That one does not permit it. No matter your schemes, all will come to naught. You think to become a Saint? Hahaha...”

Recalling the mocking expression on Shen Ni’s dying face, Rahu grew agitated. He did not know who this “one” was, but a sense of powerlessness hovered ever at the edges of his mind.

Although he had been gravely wounded in his last battle with Shen Ni, tens of thousands of years had since passed and he had fully recovered. By harnessing the baleful energy accumulated during the great beast calamity, he had elevated his cultivation to the great perfection of Quasi-Saint. Yet the opportunity to break through to Saint eluded him, filling Rahu with frustration. Unless he could rid himself of this inner demon, he feared he would never attain sainthood.

Now, with the three clans locked in a tripartite standoff, Rahu saw a new opportunity and began plotting once more. If he succeeded, he could use the murderous energy generated by the coming calamity, combined with the finest innate materials he had amassed over the years, to forge a weapon rivaling the power of the Saints: the Four Swords of Immortal Slaughter.

Once those swords were forged, even if he failed to become a Saint, he could still ensure his own survival. Even “that one,” having already achieved sainthood, would have cause to be wary.

If Chenxing knew that Rahu was forging the Four Swords of Immortal Slaughter out of a fear of him—to protect himself—he would surely find it both laughable and exasperating. Four Swords of Immortal Slaughter? Even a hundred would do you no good!

...

On Fangzhang Island, dozens of living beings had already achieved transformation. Because Chenxing often discussed the Dao with his guests—Hongjun, Fuxi, and Nüwa—the weakest of the transformed beings on the island had, over tens of thousands of years, reached the level of Grand Golden Immortal.

Little Demon, thanks to special guidance from Chenxing, had achieved the mid-stage of Da Luo Golden Immortal in just these few millennia. In fact, secretly taught techniques from other worlds by Chenxing, Little Demon’s combat prowess was now enough to challenge even the perfected Da Luo, leaving Fuxi and Hongjun dumbfounded.

Yet, seeing Chenxing’s fondness for Little Demon, they were not resentful. It was not that Chenxing refused to teach them, but rather the rules of the Dao, established when he was the Lord of Primal Chaos: each world’s chosen child and principal figures could only cultivate the Dao of their own world. Should they practice methods from other worlds, they would forfeit their main character status in their own realm.

Little Demon, however, was an exception, for Fangzhang Island and its inhabitants were never meant to take part in the Great Desolation, nor were they bound by its Heavenly Dao. Thus, learning such methods did not violate the rules Chenxing himself had established.

Though Chenxing could have changed the rules, it would have affected everything else—a chain reaction he was in no mood to untangle. Having come from Earth, he was a lazy soul, not one to trouble himself with such arduous tasks.

Besides, look at who resided on the island: Fuxi, destined to become the first emperor of humanity; Nüwa, future Saint of the Heavenly Dao, creator of humankind; and Hongjun, the first Saint of the Great Desolation, whose union with the Dao was essential to its completion.

If Chenxing stripped these three of their protagonist roles, how would the Great Desolation continue to unfold? So, despite their envy of Little Demon’s cultivation methods, Chenxing paid them no heed.

Even so, over these millennia, they had all gained greatly. Fuxi and Nüwa had both reached the peak of early Quasi-Saint, while Hongjun had attained great perfection in that realm, now only a hair’s breadth from sainthood.

Chenxing had gifted Nüwa not only the Star Pearl, a postnatal supreme treasure, during the beast calamity, but also dozens of flasks of Creation Spring Water.

Yes, this was the very lake water that had nourished the twelve-petal Creation Green Lotus. Born of chaos itself, unique to the Great Desolation, it was far more precious than any Three Light Divine Water or Primeval Heavy Water—truly a peerless treasure.

Otherwise, how could an island as blessed as Fangzhang have produced only a single twelve-petal Creation Green Lotus and a few lesser lotuses? The value of this spring water was equivalent to several top-tier innate treasures.

Nüwa, who cultivated the Dao of Creation, advanced by leaps and bounds with the help of this water. Had Chenxing not stopped her, telling her the spring would serve a greater purpose in the future, she would have long since reached the later stages of Quasi-Saint.

One day, Chenxing summoned the three before him and said to Hongjun, “Friend, your diligent cultivation here is now of no further use. Your destiny has arrived—go forth and seek it.”