Primordial Era: I am a treasure trove, full of magical treasures.

However, since the human race is too weak now, the demon race doesn't take them seriously at all. So even if they know that the human race and the demon race are mortal enemies, they won't care. Who would care about the hatred of an ant?

The primordial time is the least valuable, a hundred years pass in the blink of an eye.

Chaotic energy surged before the Purple Cloud Palace.

Emperor Jun has been kneeling here for a full century.

A hundred years is but a fleeting moment for the long-lived Emperor Jun. But at this moment, every breath feels as long as an entire era. The illusory images of the Hetu and Luoshu above his head have dimmed somewhat, and the protective divine light around him flickers uncertainly under the constant erosion of the chaotic energy. His golden crow imperial robe, which symbolizes the majesty of the demon emperor, is also covered with dirt and wrinkles.

For a century, he never rose, never moved an inch. He simply maintained his original posture, kneeling before the tightly closed palace gates, like an unchanging statue. Only the golden flames dancing in his eyes, sometimes blazing, sometimes dim, revealed that his inner peace was far from what appeared to be.

He was reminiscing, he was waiting.

Recalling the early days of the rise of the Witch Clan, when the Twelve Ancestral Witches roamed the land, rivaling the newly established Heavenly Court, and were filled with boundless ambition when they established the Heavenly Court of the Demon Clan; recalling the spiritedness of the Zhou Tian Star Array when it was first completed, and starlight enveloped the primordial world; recalling the blood-stained sky of the first Witch-Demon War, recalling the repeated defeats of the Demon Clan, and the irreconcilable hatred forged with the Witch Clan and all the races of the primordial world... also recalling the fleeting hesitation in his heart when the "Witch-Slaying Sword" plan was first proposed, and the resolute determination that was ultimately overwhelmed by the survival of his race and the hegemony of the Heavenly Court.

Waiting is the most agonizing. Even a sigh or a glance from Hongjun is enough for him to know that he, as a pawn, has not been completely discarded and is still useful to Hongjun.

However, a century has passed, and Zixiao Palace remains silent. A sense of defeat, like a cold, venomous snake, slowly gnaws at Di Jun's heart. He is the Demon Emperor, born noble and powerful; he established the Demon Clan's Heavenly Court, ruling over the celestial sphere, the nominal ruler of the primordial world; he considers himself a man of great talent and ambition, no less than any of the great powers of the primordial world. Yet now, his plans are repeatedly thwarted, and he is surrounded by powerful enemies, while he, the Heavenly Emperor, can only kneel humbly before Hongjun's gate, begging for a faint guide.

Is it shameful? Perhaps. But compared to the survival of the entire demon race and one's own ambitions, what does this so-called shame matter?

"Squeak..."

A door opening sound, so faint it was almost inaudible yet crystal clear, resounded deep within Di Jun's soul, jolting him awake from a century of silence.

Di Jun suddenly looked up, his eyes bursting with a terrifying golden light, but he forcibly suppressed it in the next moment, turning it into an almost humble expectation.

The palace gate of Zixiao Palace, which seemed to have been closed for ages, was not fully open; only a barely perceptible crack was drawn inward. There was no burst of purple energy, no echoing of the Dao, only a void deeper and more unfathomable than chaos seeping out from behind the crack.

Immediately, two figures stepped lightly out from the gap.

A boy and a girl, both childlike in appearance, dressed in purple celestial robes, their faces youthful yet their expressions indifferent, their eyes reflecting the cold trajectory of the Heavenly Dao. They were none other than Haotian and Yaochi, the attendants of Dao Ancestor Hongjun.

They stopped in front of the palace gate, their gazes calmly falling on Di Jun, who looked somewhat disheveled, without joy or sorrow, as if they were looking at a stone or a blade of grass.

"Senior Brother Dijun," Haotian spoke, his voice clear yet tinged with indifference, "Master already knows you've been here for a hundred years. He specifically ordered the two of us to convey his message to you."

Di Jun's heart tightened suddenly. The torment of waiting for a century instantly turned into an even heavier pressure. He remained kneeling, his voice slightly hoarse from not speaking for so long: "Di Jun respectfully listens to Master's decree!"

Yaochi took over the conversation, her tone completely calm: "Master said: The matter of witches and demons is part of the cycle of heaven and earth, and the calamity is predetermined. No external force can forcibly interfere."

These words, as cold as ice from the heavens, instantly extinguished the last glimmer of hope and fervor in Di Jun's heart. No external force could interfere… His teacher, as expected, wouldn't intervene!

But Haotian Tongzi continued, his words still calm, yet they stirred a ripple in Dijun's still heart: "However, as Master also said: Heaven and earth have order, and all things have limits. One should act in accordance with the principles of heaven and uphold the bottom line. Fellow Daoist Houtu has transformed into a being of reincarnation, benefiting all living beings with compassion. As long as one does not violate the laws of heaven and human ethics, or excessively coerce, she will naturally abide by her holy position, maintain the order of reincarnation, and not get involved in the mortal world's killing calamities."

Di Jun's pupils suddenly contracted!

These words, at first glance, still sounded like a rejection and a warning, but their deeper meaning allowed Di Jun to instantly grasp that glimmer of light!

Hongjun's meaning was clear: he would not intervene, but Houtu would also not intervene as long as she did not go too far. As for what would happen to the demon race, that was up to fate.

"Chess piece..." The last two words echoed in Di Jun's mind, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Yes, a chess piece. Used when needed, discarded when needed; the feelings of the chess piece and the feelings of the player are never considered. He recalled his ambition when he and Taiyi first established the Heavenly Court, his pride in subduing the myriad demons, and the hidden, self-righteous ruthlessness when devising the "Slaying Witches Sword" plan—it turned out that everything was on a much larger chessboard.

"Very well." Di Jun murmured to himself, his voice dry and hoarse, yet carrying a sense of relief and coldness as if the last shackles had been removed. Now that Hongjun had made his stance clear—indifference, or rather, tacit acceptance of the natural unfolding of the calamity—the path ahead truly lay solely in the hands of the demon race. Without the protection of a sage, and without the threat of one, what would become of the demon race was a matter for each to decide.

He glanced one last time at the three indifferent Dao characters of Zixiao Palace, bowed deeply, then turned and stepped into the chaos.

……

…………

The Heavenly Court, the Lingxiao Palace.

A hundred years is but a fleeting moment in the primordial world, but for the demons of the Heavenly Court at this moment, it feels exceptionally long. His Majesty went to Zixiao Palace to seek guidance, and has not returned for a hundred years, causing unrest throughout the Heavenly Court. Although Donghuang Taiyi is in charge, and the Zhou Tian Star Array is operating at full power to seal off the Heavenly Court, the oppressive and uneasy atmosphere hangs over the hearts of every demon like an invisible dark cloud.

"Big brother hasn't returned yet..." Taiyi sat high on the makeshift seat beside Dijun's throne, his fingers unconsciously tapping the wall of the Chaos Bell, producing a low hum. Golden flames flickered in his eyes, revealing his inner anxiety.

Below, the various demon saints stood on either side, all with solemn expressions. Over the past century, the retaliatory purge by the Witch Clan had largely concluded, severely damaging the demon race's power across the prehistoric lands. Hundreds of strongholds had been uprooted, and a large number of elite troops had perished. The plan to forge the "Witch-Slaying Sword" had almost come to a standstill. Even more alarming news came from the human race—they had ruthlessly purged traitors, slaughtering tens of thousands of collaborators, and publicly declared their irreconcilable enmity with the demon race!

Although the demon race is currently too small to take the human race seriously, the signal revealed behind this matter makes all the demon saints uneasy!

"Your Majesty, the Eastern Emperor," Qin Yuan, the Demon Saint, stepped forward, his voice low and deep, "Your Majesty has not returned for a century, and the attitude of Zixiao Palace is unclear. Furthermore, our demon race has recently suffered heavy losses, and morale is low. As a matter of course, I believe we should strengthen our defenses at all times to prevent a surprise attack from the witch race. At the same time... perhaps we should consider whether to continue the 'Slaying Witches Sword' plan."

"You mean give up?" Taiyi suddenly turned his head, his gaze sharp as a sword.

"It's not about giving up, but... adjusting," Qin Yuan said in a deep voice, bearing the pressure. "The plan has been exposed, and the Witch Clan will definitely be on guard. Moreover, the loss of the Soul Jade needed for refining it is enormous, and collecting it again will take a long time; there are too many variables. Perhaps... we should seek other ways to counter the Witch Clan. For example, strengthening the destructive power of the Zhou Tian Star Array, or refining other star-type spiritual treasures specifically designed to destroy the physical body..."

"It's too late!" Ghost Chariot Demon Saint interrupted. "The Witch Clan already knows our intentions. How could they give us time to prepare? In my opinion, we should gather our army and launch a preemptive strike while their new Ancestral Witch is still in place and their grand formation is incomplete. Let's fight the Witch Clan to the death! The blood of my demon warriors cannot be shed in vain!"

"A decisive battle to the death? What are we going to fight with?" Ji Meng sneered. "The Zhou Tian Star Array is indeed powerful, but without the complete Twelve Capital Heavenly Gods and Demons Array, is the Wu Clan just made of clay? The eleven Ancestral Witches joining forces, along with countless Great Witches and War Witches, even if they can't break through the Heavenly Court, they can severely damage my Demon Clan! And don't forget, there's Xuanbao lurking in the shadows, and the Three Pure Ones and Nuwa's attitude is ambiguous... To fight now would be suicide!"

"Then what are you going to do? Continue to cower?" Yingzhao said angrily.

"That's enough!"

Taiyi slammed his hand on the armrest, and the Chaos Bell emitted a clear, resonant chime. The invisible sound waves spread out, silencing the argument in the hall. His face was ashen, and he was about to speak when a spatial fluctuation suddenly came from outside the hall.

"His Majesty is back!"

The joyful shouts of the demon general on duty rang out. The next moment, a golden figure slowly emerged in the center of the Lingxiao Palace; it was none other than Di Jun.

"Big brother!" Taiyi suddenly stood up.

"Your Majesty!" All the demon saints bowed in unison, their eyes filled with anticipation.

Di Jun's clothes were slightly disheveled, and his face was somewhat pale, but the light in his golden eyes remained sharp as ever. He waved his hand, walked straight to the imperial throne, and slowly sat down. A hundred years of kneeling in the Chaos had taken a toll on his mind and spirit, but this was not the time to rest.

"I have returned from Zixiao Palace," Di Jun said calmly, yet it made all the demons in the hall tense.

"Teacher... what should I say?" Taiichi asked anxiously.

Di Jun's gaze swept over the demons, and he slowly said, "The Dao Ancestor said: The conflict between the witches and demons is a calamity of the Heavenly Dao. Sages must not interfere, and the Dao Ancestor will not show favoritism."

A moment of silence fell over the hall, followed by a slight commotion and a sigh of disappointment. As expected… the Dao Ancestor still wouldn't intervene.

"However," Di Jun changed the subject, raising his voice slightly, "the Dao Ancestor also clearly stated: Hou Tu, in her reincarnation, is limited by the authority of the Earthly Dao and cannot easily interfere in the affairs of the Wu Clan, unless the Wu Clan faces the danger of extinction and shakes the foundation of reincarnation."

Upon hearing this, the atmosphere in the hall changed abruptly!

Taiyi's eyes lit up: "Big brother means..."

"Houtu cannot act rashly," Di Jun repeated, his eyes gleaming with golden light. "This means that unless we drive the Witch Clan to the brink of annihilation, Lady Pingxin can only stand by and watch! This is the bottom line our teacher has given our Demon Clan, and it is also the space in which our Demon Clan can operate!"

Qin Yuan pondered for a moment: "Your Majesty, in this way, the conflict between our demon race and the witch race has returned to a contest at the quasi-saint level. The intimidation of the Goddess Houtu... at least within a certain range, we don't need to worry too much."

"That's right." Di Jun nodded. "However, this also means that the Dao Ancestor will not directly help our demon race. We must walk the path ahead on our own."

He paused, then looked at Qin Yuan: "I overheard part of what you just said outside the hall. Continue."

Qin Yuan's spirits lifted, and he hurriedly said, "Your Majesty, I believe that since the Dao Ancestor has drawn the bottom line, our demon race should rethink its plans. The 'Slaying the Witch Sword' plan has already been exposed, and the Witch Clan will surely be on guard. Continuing to push it forward will be counterproductive and extremely vulnerable to further attacks. It would be better to shelve it for the time being, or to secretly and slowly gather resources as a backup plan. The most urgent task is to stabilize the Heavenly Court and restore its vitality."

Di Jun sat upright on the imperial throne, his fingertips slowly tapping the armrest. The deformed parts had been silently melted and reshaped by him with the true fire of the sun, smooth as ever. He listened to Qin Yuan's suggestion, then glanced at the faces of the demon saints in the hall, some indignant, some worried, some bewildered. The coldness and weariness accumulated at the gates of Zixiao Palace over the past hundred years, combined with a kind of clarity after being repeatedly struck by predetermined fate, finally blended into an unusual calm, even with a hint of cruel decisiveness.

"Qin Yuan's words have merit." Di Jun spoke slowly, his voice not loud, but suppressing all subtle noises, "'The Sword of Slaughtering Witches' has lost its advantage and its righteousness. Forcing its continuation would be counterproductive and only waste our clan's strength, giving others ammunition to criticize us. It is not unreasonable to put it aside for now."

Di Jun paused, his golden eyes gradually focusing with a sharp light, like a hawk locking onto its prey: "However, our demon race has just suffered a great defeat, with heavy losses. Our men are resentful and their morale is low. If we remain in the Heavenly Court for too long without showing our might or demonstrating our divine power, not only will our morale plummet, but all the races of the prehistoric world will also regard our Heavenly Court as easy to bully! At that time, when the wall falls, everyone will push it down, and we may face the danger of our nest being overthrown."

"Brother, you mean... we should fight, but not the Witch Clan?" Taiyi frowned, and the Chaos Bell trembled slightly, showing its master's agitation. "Although the primordial world is vast, besides the Witch Clan, who else is worthy to be an enemy of my demon race? And who can make my demon warriors vent their anger?"

Di Jun's lips curled into a cold smile, the smile not reaching his eyes, but causing the temperature in the hall to drop sharply: "Yes. Moreover, it is an excellent target—its strength is not weak, capable of fighting, enough to restore the army's prestige; its foundation is not shallow, seizing its resources can replenish the foundation of my demon race; moreover... it has an old grudge against me, so attacking it is justified."

His gaze slowly shifted to a certain direction outside the hall, as if piercing through the endless sea of ​​stars and the primordial barrier, landing on that celestial paradise beyond the East Sea.

"Dong Wang Gong".

As soon as the three words were uttered, the Lingxiao Palace fell silent for a moment, then a low hum filled with realization and killing intent resounded.

The Eastern King Duke! He was personally appointed "Head of Male Immortals" by Dao Ancestor Hongjun after his first sermon at Zixiao Palace, nominally in charge of all male immortals in the primordial world. His Daoist temple is located on Penglai Immortal Island in the East Sea, where he has gathered many independent cultivators and plant spirits from overseas, forming his own sect. Although not as powerful as the Wu and Yao races, Penglai Immortal Island was formed from fragments of chaos, possessing incredibly rich innate spiritual energy. Legend has it that it harbors countless ancient spiritual roots and innate spiritual materials, making it a highly coveted prize.

More importantly, the demon race and the Eastern King Duke have a long-standing feud. When Emperor Jun and Taiyi established the demon race, aiming to rule over all living beings in the primordial world, this naturally clashed with the authority of this "head of the male immortals." The Eastern King Duke, relying on his personal appointment by the Dao Ancestor, repeatedly disregarded the demon race's authority, and his subordinate immortals frequently clashed with the demon tribes, vying for spiritual veins and cave dwellings. However, since the demon race's power rapidly expanded under Emperor Jun's various machinations, the Eastern King Duke refrained from causing trouble. Furthermore, with the Witch Clan facing a formidable enemy, the demon race did not want to create more powerful enemies, thus they had not retaliated against the Eastern King Duke. Now…

"Dong Wang Gong..." Upon hearing this, the eyes of the Demon Saint flashed with a fierce light. "This Dong Wang Gong, relying on being appointed the head of the male immortals by Hongjun, is arrogant and domineering. He uses this trivial matter as an excuse. Now our demon race can take him down!" The Ghost Chariot Demon Saint rubbed his fists together, his eyes full of fighting spirit.

"That's right. Taking over Penglai Immortal Island will not only replenish our demon race's resources but also boost morale." Ji Meng, the Demon Saint, nodded in agreement.

Looking at the excited demon saints, Di Jun had already made up his mind. As for the fact that Dong Wanggong was also Hongjun's henchman, Di Jun didn't care. The less Hongjun had anyone to use, the less easily the demon race would be discarded as a pawn.

As for the Celestial Court of the Eastern King Duke, its strength is not weak either, but against the demon race, it's about 30/70. In 3,000 years, the demon race has destroyed the Celestial Court seven times.