Chapter 26: The Divine Purple-Gold Hammer

Tongtian gazed toward the sky above Buzhou Mountain, where twelve sinister stars glowed fiercely, their brightness tinged with a chilling aura. From this, he knew the Twelve Ancestor Witches had emerged into the world.

At the same time, he felt a wave of heat atop his head and looked toward the solar star, where three golden crows danced within its fiery brilliance. Remarkably, these were visible to the naked eye, not through the use of mystical sight—such was the audacity of Emperor Jun and Taiyi. He wondered briefly about the identity of the third golden crow, then realized it was her, Xihe. Xihe, who bore ten sons for Emperor Jun, the ten golden crows, was revered as the Holy Mother of the Celestial Court.

Tongtian was aware that after the great battle between the Dao Ancestor Hongjun and the Demon Ancestor Rahu, it would take three thousand years for Hongjun to fully achieve the Dao, attaining the realm of the Primordial Immortal.

Now, nine thousand years had already passed, and only a thousand remained before Hongjun’s emergence.

Duobao, true to his reputation as the Treasured Mouse, had absorbed the spiritual energy of this place, refining the robes and tools of the Daoists within his own belly and transforming them anew. Duobao had now attained the cultivation of a Celestial Immortal; for spiritual creatures, once they took human form, their powers grew rapidly.

The black ox, meanwhile, was content to idle and train whenever boredom struck, often napping lazily while Tongtian watched. The ox had not yet transformed, testament to its indolence.

Observing these two—one diligent, one lazy—Tongtian reflected, “Every person has their own path.” He did not expect them to follow his own way; everything should flow naturally.

After nine thousand years of cultivation, even Tongtian had grown somewhat neurotic—day after day spent in ceaseless training. “If you don’t cultivate, what else would you do?” he lamented in frustration.

Thankfully, Duobao remained to converse with him; otherwise, he feared he might lose his sanity.

Once more, Tongtian closed his eyes and sought enlightenment within the Great Dao. Though reluctant, he knew that in this world where strength determined survival, those without power were destined to be mere ants.

He recalled that in the future, he might have to contend with other sages; for that, he needed both power and treasures. He could not rely solely on the spiritual objects atop the Treasure Cliff to secure his own destiny. Preparations needed to be made early, so that when confronting the Wheel of the Heavenly Dao, he might remain undefeated.

A thousand years was an eternity for mortals, but for cultivators, it was but the blink of an eye.

During this millennium, the various factions of the primordial world clashed unceasingly. Two powers grew especially formidable: the Witch Tribe of the Twelve Ancestor Witches, and the Three-legged Golden Crows of the solar star.

The Twelve Ancestor Witches, unable to suppress their restlessness, began their campaign to dominate the world. They fused their own blood with the primordial turbid energy beneath Buzhou Mountain, giving birth to a new race—the Witch Tribe.

This tribe did not cultivate the soul, but triumphed through martial prowess, making them highly resistant to magical attacks and compelling the development of powerful battle techniques. As their numbers swelled, their influence spread outward from Buzhou Mountain in all directions.

Within the solar star, the three golden crows—Emperor Jun, Taiyi, and Xihe—were undertaking a great endeavor. Xihe presided over the innate red fire of the sun, scorching the earth from east to west. Wherever the sun’s radiance touched, Emperor Jun and Taiyi wielded spiritual treasures to subdue the myriad races of the world.

A thousand years passed quietly in this way. Tongtian kept abreast of the shifting power dynamics, and upon sweeping his spiritual awareness through his own soul, discovered he had cultivated the “Scripture of the Great Ascension of Spiritual Treasures” to the stage of transforming energy—equivalent to the mid-level of a Golden Immortal.

Duobao’s cultivation had reached the late stage of Celestial Immortal, while the black ox, focusing solely on physical training and neglecting the soul, remained at the stage of transforming the spirit into the void.

With only a thousand years left before the Dao Ancestor attained his primordial realm, Tongtian still lacked a fitting treasure. His only defensive artifact, the Nine-grade Purple Lotus, had followed the Great Immortal Willow away. He knew he needed to seek out other treasures.

He thought of the many artifacts that would one day be found at Buzhou Mountain, but with the Witch Tribe now guarding it, his current strength was insufficient even to challenge a single guardian. He had to give up for now. Unbeknownst to Tongtian, the Twelve Ancestor Witches, having created the Witch Tribe, had depleted their own magical power and were now in secluded cultivation.

Perhaps it was best to wander about; maybe luck would favor him with a spiritual treasure. Tongtian mounted his black ox, with Duobao attending him, and journeyed south.

“Master, there is a treasure three thousand miles ahead,” Duobao announced, using his innate talent for seeking spiritual artifacts.

“Let’s go,” Tongtian replied, delighted. What he wished for always seemed to manifest. Having a disciple was indeed convenient—he handled everything. With a slap to the ox’s flank, they sped toward the treasure.

A wild surge of thunderous power guarded the perimeter. Tongtian was stunned; what kind of spiritual object could be protected by such chaotic divine thunder?

The voice of Pangu was known as Dutian Divine Thunder, while the Heavenly Dao wielded the Purple Heaven Divine Thunder, and here was the Chaotic Heaven Thunder.

“Master, are you troubled by that treasure?” Duobao, perceiving Tongtian’s difficulty, spoke up.

“Stop pretending to be profound; if you have something to say, just say it.” Tongtian flicked Duobao’s forehead. This little fellow had been by his side for over ten thousand years, learning the ways of humanity. It was right to be guarded with outsiders, but to treat him thus warranted a reprimand.

“Master, your disciple knows his mistake,” Duobao replied, his eyes twinkling as he smiled at Tongtian.

The black ox chuckled, and Duobao, annoyed, kicked its hindquarters.

“All right, all right, little Duobao, let’s focus on how to obtain the treasure,” Tongtian hastily intervened as the two prepared to bicker.

“Master, just watch,” Duobao declared, forming a magical seal and burrowing underground toward the Chaotic Heaven Divine Thunder array.

“Be careful,” Tongtian urged.

The thunder gradually shrank, and joy spread across Tongtian’s face—Duobao had succeeded.

Mist swirled ahead, revealing a figure holding a small purple-gold hammer. Upon seeing Tongtian, the figure bowed and declared, “Master, this is the object of the array.” It was Duobao.

“Very good. This treasure suits you,” Tongtian said, inspecting the hammer and addressing Duobao.

Lightning flickered across its surface, and engraved on the handle was the name: Purple Gold Hammer.

This was the same Purple Gold Hammer used by the Master of the Heaven’s Path in the “Investiture of the Gods.” So Tongtian mused.

“Master, I don’t want this. As the Devouring Mouse, I can create anything—I need no such artifact. Look at my belly; another little hammer has already been born,” Duobao replied, shaking his head vigorously and refusing Tongtian’s gift.

It made sense; in the “Investiture of the Gods,” Duobao never wielded a suitable treasure, though imitations were plentiful, showing just how picky he was about spiritual artifacts. Tongtian understood immediately—Duobao felt this treasure wasn’t worthy enough.

Tongtian smiled but said nothing, mounting the black ox and heading south.

As for why he traveled south—he was now north of Buzhou Mountain, and Kunlun Mountain lay to its south. Tongtian’s aim was to reunite with his elder brothers. He hoped that after the Three Schools separated, the Three Pure Ones might still retain their bond. Yet, even if Tongtian returned to Kunlun Mountain now, he would not encounter the Supreme Elder or the Primordial Lord; both had already found their own paths, growing ever more like their counterparts in the “Investiture of the Gods.” Tongtian, however, remained unaware of this.