Chapter Sixty-Nine: The First Sermon Concludes, The Second Holy War

Ignoring the Fat One’s mischief, Hongjun gazed at Houtu, sighed softly, and said in a gentle voice, “Since Fellow Daoist Zhufeng has already revealed the secrets of Heaven, I will not say more. Though your Wu Tribe may find it hard to attain true sainthood, becoming a Quasi-Saint is within reach. In the future, you too shall have a great merit to fulfill. I hope your Wu Tribe will conduct itself wisely.”

Houtu did not appear joyful at Fat One’s mention that she might yet attain sainthood; instead, she looked utterly dejected, sat aside, and fell silent.

Seeing this as an opportunity, Yuanshi hurriedly asked, “May I ask, Dao Ancestor, though we have cultivated for countless years, we have never been able to break through to the Quasi-Saint realm. What is the cause of this?”

At Yuanshi’s question, the many gathered mighty ones all pricked up their ears, for this concerned the chance for many who had reached the pinnacle of the Great Luo Golden Immortal to ascend to a higher realm—how could they not care?

Hongjun smiled serenely and spoke: “To reach the realm of Great Luo Golden Immortal is to have already stepped outside the river of fate; barring accident, it is immortality and indestructibility. This is the Dao’s favor to all beings. Yet, to progress further is to tread against the will of Heaven itself. Without a path to liberation, you will forever remain at the peak of Great Luo.”

The assembly bowed low, calling out, “We beseech the teacher to grant us the path to liberation!”

Hongjun shook his head and sighed. “This lecture will allow you to solidify your foundations. In the next, I shall impart the method of liberation. For now, you must withdraw. Return in a thousand years; do not force what cannot be forced.” With that, he closed his eyes and spoke no more.

The crowd could only leave, bowing and full of longing, hoping for the thousand years to pass swiftly and the next lecture to soon arrive.

Seeing the first sermon end, the Fat One was disgruntled. He had planned to play the elder before everyone, but Hongjun had not taken in disciples this time. Helpless, he followed Haotian to the guest quarters to rest.

Indeed, Chenxing and the others had no intention to leave; Chenxing was eager to witness a fine spectacle. A thousand years was but a nap to him.

After the Fat One and Fuxi were led away, Hongjun smiled wryly at Chenxing and said, “It seems you are determined to watch me make a fool of myself.”

Chenxing shook his head with a laugh. “Not so! It is only that a battle between Saints is a rare event. My wife Nüwa has only recently attained the Hunyuan realm; observing this duel will surely be beneficial.”

Hongjun sighed, turned, and vanished from the grand hall, and with him, so too did Chenxing and his wife disappear.

In the midst of chaos, a figure stood quietly amidst the turbulent flows. Yet strangely, these chaotic currents parted around him as though he did not exist at all.

“Alas! Fellow Daoist Yangmei, what is the point of this? Now that you have attained Hunyuan, why must you insist on challenging me—a man about to step into a cage?” As these words fell, Hongjun appeared before the figure.

This was none other than Yangmei, who had departed wounded after Luo Hou detonated the western ley lines during the great war of gods and demons.

“In that battle against Luo Hou,” Yangmei said calmly, “you benefitted most, becoming the first Saint of the prehistoric world. But do you still remember the Daoists of Yin-Yang and Heaven-Earth?”

Hongjun’s expression grew more bitter. He replied helplessly, “Now that you have attained Hunyuan, you must know that Yin-Yang and Heaven-Earth were doomed by fate in those times; it was not by my hand that they perished.”

Yangmei laughed heartily, shaking his head. “You are too cautious, Hongjun. I am not here to avenge them. I simply wish to see whether the first Saint beneath Heaven or I, with my Hunyuan attainment, is the stronger!”

Hongjun sighed, gestured, and said, “If that is your wish, please.”

Just as Yangmei was about to strike, a sudden feeling made him call out in a sonorous voice, “Which fellow Daoist hides here? Will you not reveal yourself?”

A helpless sigh echoed from the void, and soon two figures appeared amidst the chaos—it was Chenxing and Nüwa.

Seeing Nüwa’s cheeks tinged with red, Chenxing bowed and greeted, “Greetings, Fellow Daoist Yangmei!” Yangmei, however, was struck dumb.

He had not sensed the presence of any outsiders; only as he was about to act did he feel the faintest ripple of magical power, prompting his question. But he never expected to find not one, but two infiltrators—one, like himself, a Saint of the Hunyuan realm; the other, though outwardly only a Quasi-Saint, was utterly inscrutable. How could he not be startled?

Nüwa felt deeply embarrassed. Originally, Chenxing only intended to spectate a battle between Saints; they had no need to show themselves. Yet, as the two Saints were about to fight, her excitement betrayed their presence to Yangmei, much to Chenxing’s chagrin.

Yangmei was utterly bewildered—was he hallucinating? Had he not been told that, besides himself who, by chance, attained the Hunyuan Saint fruit two thousand years prior, only Hongjun was the first Saint of Heaven’s Way? But before him now stood another Hunyuan Saint—a woman, no less. The shock was immeasurable.

His mind blank, Yangmei looked to the composed Hongjun for explanation.

Seeing Yangmei’s confusion, Hongjun suppressed a laugh and introduced, “This is my close friend, Fellow Daoist Chenxing, and his Dao companion, Fellow Daoist Nüwa.” Turning to Chenxing, he smiled, “As for Fellow Daoist Yangmei, I suppose I need not introduce him?”

Chenxing shook his head to indicate there was no need. Seeing Yangmei still bewildered, Hongjun explained, “Do you remember Fellow Daoist Fuxi?”

Yangmei nodded. Fuxi’s mysterious abilities had been instrumental in breaking the Immortal-Slaying Sword Array; even Yangmei envied such powers, but did not know what connection these two had.

“This Fellow Daoist Nüwa is Fuxi’s younger sister, and those abilities he displayed were taught to him by Fellow Daoist Chenxing,” Hongjun continued.

Suddenly enlightened, Yangmei realized that before him stood the very mysterious figure Hongjun had mentioned. He hastily stepped forward and saluted, “Greetings, Fellow Daoist Chenxing and Fellow Daoist Nüwa!”

Chenxing smiled ruefully. “I have delayed your contest—it was reckless of us. Please forgive us.”

“Not at all! I invite you both to bear witness to our duel—please!” With his doubts resolved, Yangmei replied in a clear voice.

Now that Yangmei was determined to fight, Hongjun no longer hesitated and gestured, “Please, Fellow Daoist Yangmei!”

In a flash, the two shifted ten thousand miles away. Behind Yangmei appeared a colossal, hollow willow tree, towering to the heavens, ready for battle. Hongjun, meanwhile, was surrounded by countless treasures, each radiating divine light, protecting him on all sides, with the Creation Jade Disc floating above his head, prepared for use at any moment.

With a thunderous shout, Yangmei summoned a long whip shimmering with verdant light, sweeping it toward Hongjun—this was a supreme treasure, forged from his own willow branch, and its power was terrible to behold.

As the whip descended, Hongjun wasted no time. With a flick of his finger, the Taiji Diagram unfurled, gathering ten thousand fathoms of chaotic energy to meet the blow. “Boom!” A deafening roar echoed through the chaos, the shockwaves extending for ten thousand miles.

The might of Saints is beyond comprehension. Countless beams of light flashed within the chaos, each explosion sending turbulent currents surging in every direction. Stray fragments of their power tore open the fabric of space, only to vanish in the blink of an eye.

Their battle tore space asunder, stalled time itself; with a casual stroke they could destroy heavens and earth.

No one in the prehistoric world knew of this Saintly battle in the chaos—nor did they realize that, had a single blow landed upon the world, it would have ceased to exist.

In the blink of an eye, a thousand years passed. Countless mighty beings once more gathered in the Zixiao Palace, awaiting the arrival of the Dao Ancestor.

On the meditation mats, Zhunti gazed longingly toward the Dao Ancestor’s throne. In the thousand years since last hearing the Dao Ancestor’s teachings, he and his brother had at last attained the pinnacle of Great Luo Golden Immortal, making up for the time lost tending to the ley lines and catching up with the others seated there.

Now, the brothers eagerly anticipated the Dao Ancestor’s method for breaking through to the Quasi-Saint realm.

A bell chimed—a clear, resonant sound. Countless golden lotuses blossomed in the air, within which Hongjun’s figure gradually appeared.

All those below hurriedly paid their respects, “Greetings, Teacher!” Ever since Hongjun had transmitted his teachings to the world, all addressed him as Teacher—thus, the title Dao Ancestor Hongjun was fully established.