Primordial Era: The Witch Clan Reigns Supreme, Hongjun Begs Me to Become the Demon Emperor

Chapter 41 Kuafu: Food.

Let's turn our attention to the other side, the stronghold of the Wu tribe, Mount Buzhou.

Buzhou Mountain is quite lively now.

It's true, literally "lively".

You would never see such a sight in other prehistoric lands: the witch race and the demon race coexisting in one area.

Although using the word "coexistence" here is somewhat of a stretch.

How so?

Pangu Palace—the stronghold of the Wu tribe, is located at the deepest part of Buzhou Mountain, where the bloodline of Pangu converges.

On the vast plains far from the Pangu Palace, the demon race was densely packed together.

Yes, the demon race.

They were the millions of demons that the Witch Clan had "rescued" from the Heavenly Demon Locking Cave.

They called it "saving," but the demons themselves clearly didn't see it that way.

At this moment, the edge of the plain was "encircled" by the Wu tribe in the most primitive way. There were no formations or restrictions, just hundreds of tall Wu warriors standing there, forming a wall of flesh and blood.

Outside the wall was the territory of the Wu tribe; inside the wall was a temporary settlement area for the Yao tribe, or rather, a refugee camp.

It feels strangely harmonious.

But it also has an indescribable eeriness about it.

Without further ado, let's focus on a specific person—or rather, a specific shaman.

Kuafu.

The towering Kuafu was squatting at the entrance of the "wall," his hands supporting his chin, his eyes fixed on the demons inside, lost in thought.

That look in his eyes was focused, deep, and carried a hint of longing.

Fox Clan Ancestor Fox Third Sister huddled at the very back of the crowd, cautiously observing the enormous creature through layers of demonic shadows.

"What is that great shaman doing?" she asked the fox elder beside her in a low voice, her voice trembling.

"Are they going to eat us up?!"

Beside them, a round little wild boar burst into tears.

That's Pigskinden's son, the young master of the pig clan, Pig Pidian.

"Waaaaah—don't eat us—I should have died in Heaven—waaaaah!"

This crying was like flipping a switch.

Tens of thousands of wild boars around, some as big as small hills and others as small as winter melons, all joined in, howling and wailing.

"Waaaaah"

"Awooooo!"

"Hmph hmph hmph"

In an instant, the cries were deafening, and could be heard for miles around.

Kuafu was startled by the sudden cry, then frowned, about to get angry—

"Alright, alright, stop crying!"

A clear voice came from the side.

Another great shaman approached.

He was equally tall, but much more proportionate than Kuafu. He carried a large bow on his back, the bow itself a pale gold color, with a faint aura of the sun flowing through it—Hou Yi.

Hou Yi walked to Kuafu's side, glanced at him, then looked at the weeping demons inside, and sighed helplessly.

"Kuafu," he said. "Could you please stop looking at them like that? Look how scared you've made them."

Kuafu scratched his head, looking completely innocent: "What kind of look did I give you?"

"It's that kind of look—like you want to stew someone alive."

"————" Kuafu remained silent for a moment.

"But they look really delicious."

Hou Yi sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Eat, eat, eat! All you ever think about is eating!" He couldn't help but raise his voice.

"Can't you be a little more ambitious? What can you do besides eat?"

Kuafu retorted, "Then tell me, why did you save them?"

Hou Yi was taken aback.

"This—" he stammered.

Kuafu became smug: "See? You didn't know either."

Hou Yi, enraged and embarrassed, retorted: "I don't know, but at least I don't think about food all day!"

"So what do you want?"

"I—" Hou Yi thought for a moment and said honestly.

"I don't know either."

Kuafu looked at him with disdain: "What are you pretending for? You're just like me."

Hou Yi:

'

The two stared at each other, wide-eyed.

Behind them, the group of minor witches had somehow gathered around, forming a circle and starting to whisper among themselves.

Although it was described as "whispering," the voices were so loud that the demons behind the door could hear them clearly.

Little Witch A: "Is the Great Witch Kuafu about to eat?"

Little Witch B: "The ingredients inside—oh no, the demons inside, are we going to eat them?"

Little Wu Bing peeked inside, swallowed hard, and said, "Those foxes look so young—"

Little Wuding: "Wild boar is fine too! Thick skin, lots of meat, I can fill my stomach!"

The cries of the demons behind the door grew louder.

Fox Sister's face turned deathly pale as she murmured, "So—so they saved us because they wanted to eat me—"

The pig, panting and crying, cried out, "I knew it! I knew it! How could the Witch Clan be kind enough to save us! They're using us as food supplies! Waaah!"

The sounds of crying, wailing, and sobbing blended together.

Kuafu, his head aching from the noise, suddenly stood up, exuding the imposing aura of a great shaman!

"What's all the noise about!"

His roar shook the entire plain.

The demons fell silent instantly, with only suppressed sobs remaining.

Kuafu glared at them: "You're arguing even though I'm saving you? If you keep arguing, I'll really stew you!"

After saying that, he squatted down again and continued to stare inside with that "it smells so good" look.

Hou Yi stood aside, watching this scene, and suddenly felt very tired.

When will our witch clan finally produce some intelligent people?

All he did was eat.

Why are there so few wise ancestral witches like Houtu?

Meanwhile, inside the Pangu Hall.

The sacred site of the Wu tribe, the Pangu Temple.

This palace was not built by man, but was a natural temple formed after Pangu's heart landed.

The hall is spacious, with countless innate Dao patterns engraved on its four walls, exuding an ancient and rustic aura.

Deep inside, a giant heart is slowly beating.

"Thump thump—thump—"

Each sound was like the first note of creation, resonating in the blood of every ancestral witch present.

Below the heart is a pool of blood.

The blood in the pool boiled and churned, and the faint phantoms of countless witch warriors could be seen being conceived, formed, and born within it—the very foundation for the continuation of the witch race.

At this moment, the twelve Ancestral Witches gathered in the hall, sitting in a circle.

-

Gonggong was slapping his thigh, excitedly recounting his "glorious deeds" in Heaven.

"You didn't see it! When the Eastern King Duke struck down with his palm, he had gathered the fortune of the Celestial Court for thousands of years. The aura and the pressure were incredible! Then I did a backflip and kicked him back!"

He got more and more excited as he spoke, gesturing wildly: "His face turned green! Seriously, it was as green as something!"

Zhu Rong chimed in, "And me! I hadn't even made a move yet, and he chickened out! You didn't see the way he looked; his hand gripping his cane was trembling!"

Gonggong: "The two of us can take down all of his powerful subordinates!"

Zhu Rong: "That Eastern King Duke has some strength, but not enough!"

The two of them spoke in unison, their words flowing freely.

The other ancestral witches listened, some nodded, some rolled their eyes, and some even yawned.

Dijiang sat at the head of the table, listening expressionlessly to these two clowns boasting. Finally, he couldn't help but speak up: "Alright, have you said enough?"

Gonggong was taken aback: "Brother, we haven't finished talking yet—"

"Shut up if you haven't finished speaking."