Chapter Forty-Nine: The Army Sets Out for Buzhou

Tongtian returned to Kirin Cliff on Kunlun Mountain and saw the Grand Supreme Elder Lord and the Primeval Lord of Heaven. Yet, upon seeing him, the two greeted him with cold, cutting words, showing not the slightest hint of sentiment or mercy. Disheartened and desolate, Tongtian retreated to his chamber of cultivation and did not emerge again. Thus, a thousand years quietly slipped by.

During this millennium, however, the once tranquil prehistoric world was once again thrown into turmoil. The reason for this unrest was none other than the demon race’s ambition to unify the world under their rule.

Within the Solar Palace atop the Sun Star, the Demon Emperor Dijun gazed intently at the “Sorcerer-Slaying Sword” in his hand, his excitement barely contained. With this sword, he could pierce the bodies of the Twelve Ancestral Sorcerers, striking at their very vitality and perhaps sending them to meet their father, the Great God Pangu. As long as this sword unleashed its might, the day of the demon race’s unification of the world would no longer be far off.

Whenever he pictured all beings bowing before him and acclaiming him as “Your Majesty,” Dijun could not help but burst into hearty laughter. For a true strongman, a domineering presence was essential; without it, how could he keep the demon race’s mighty ones in check?

Dijun’s gaze flickered as he looked toward the Eastern Emperor Taiyi, and he said, “Gather here for deliberation.” Though his words were mild, the imperial aura permeated every corner of the great hall, making it almost hard to breathe.

Feeling the pressure from his elder brother, Taiyi nodded slightly and with a wave of his hand conjured a small bell in his palm. This was, of course, Taiyi’s companion treasure—the Chaos Bell. The bell swayed gently, sending its resonant chimes ringing through the air, echoing across the heavens. All the demon race’s mighty ones, who were cultivating in their own abodes, immediately emerged, calling their friends and rushing toward the Sun Star.

Only now did the prehistoric powers truly open their eyes to what top-tier strength meant. Countless beams of light flashed across the sky; the spectacle was far grander than even the legendary “Ten Thousand Immortals Pay Homage” that would be seen in later ages.

When all the demon saints entered the great hall, they saw Dijun seated high upon his throne, surveying the assembly. Taiyi stood respectfully by his side, silent. Soon, the demon saints gathered together and bowed, proclaiming, “Peace and prosperity to Your Majesty.”

“Rise, all of you,” Dijun commanded, his powerful hand gesturing lightly in midair. The demon saints stood and arranged themselves in two orderly lines, awaiting his decree.

“Now that the Sorcerer-Slaying Sword has been forged, the time for our demon race to unify the world is at hand. A new era is about to dawn upon the prehistoric realm!” Suddenly, Dijun rose and addressed the assembly.

“Your Majesty, this must not be! In my humble opinion, we should consider this matter carefully,” objected Bai Ze, the Demon Sage renowned as the “Wise One” among the demon race. It was always better to deliberate before taking action—such was Bai Ze’s philosophy. The Twelve Ancestral Sorcerers of the sorcerer race were living embodiments of the peak Da Luo Golden Immortals, beings whose might could sweep aside all powers in the world. The demon race had formidable defensive arrays, true, but in terms of offense, they were somewhat lacking.

Yet Dijun did not heed Bai Ze’s counsel. At that moment, his gaze swept toward Yingzhao, another Demon Sage. A wise ruler never stated his own opinion directly; if he did, how could his subordinates voice any different views? Such, too, was the art of kingship.

“Your Majesty, Fellow Daoist Bai Ze, in past conflicts with the sorcerer race, what we feared was their powerful body-forging techniques. Ordinary weapons and treasures could not so much as scratch their bodies, which has long vexed us. But now the situation is different. We possess multiple great arrays, which can restrain several Ancestral Sorcerers at once.

Moreover, with Your Majesty wielding the Sorcerer-Slaying Sword and His Highness Taiyi employing the Chaos Bell to suppress their true forms, the Ancestral Sorcerers will vanish from the face of the world.” Sensing Dijun’s gaze, Yingzhao knew he had to speak—otherwise, his standing in Dijun’s heart would slip, and that would not serve either public or private interests.

The demon sages stood here for one purpose only: to ensure the survival of their kin. Otherwise, what could possibly bring two rival races to the table for negotiation and discussion?

Knowing his efforts would be in vain, Bai Ze withdrew to one side and spoke no further.

Sensing Bai Ze’s concern, Taiyi said, “We do not fight alone; our people stand with us. Moreover, I shall invite Fuxi, Nuwa, and the demon master Kunpeng to join us, lending strength to our cause!” Taiyi’s stirring words were meant to rally everyone’s spirits and soothe Bai Ze’s worries.

Upon hearing his younger brother’s impassioned speech, Dijun, as the elder, could not remain seated. He rose and declared to the assembly, “Join me in mustering the troops to campaign against the sorcerer race, that we may restore clarity and light to the world!” His words were grand; his actions resolute.

Thus the demon sages gathered before the Roll Call Platform of the Solar Palace. Although the ancestor Hongjun had opened a space above Buzhou Mountain for Dijun and his peers to enjoy, they believed that until the world was truly unified, they could not yet reside in the Celestial Palace. Therefore, all manner of palatial structures had been erected upon the Sun Star.

Looking upon the impassioned demon soldiers, Dijun delivered a rousing call to arms, thousands upon thousands of words extolling their certain victory. The soldiers became convinced that the demon race’s triumph was inevitable, that the sorcerer race was powerless to resist, and that victory was within reach. Yet none of the soldiers realized that Dijun’s true aim was to prepare them to serve as cannon fodder.

In order to strike directly at the sorcerer race’s stronghold—Buzhou Mountain—the demon army for the first time advanced to their chosen base: the Celestial Palace. Beneath the palace lay Buzhou Mountain itself; both in terrain and strategic advantage, it was the ideal choice. Furthermore, above the Celestial Palace hung the Nine Heavens’ Stars, whose power could be harnessed to oppose the demon race’s enemies. For these reasons, Dijun and the others selected this place as their military stronghold.

Banners fluttered amidst the black clouds, drums thundered in the sky, pounding upon the hearts of the demon army. Dark clouds rolled, wild winds howled, lightning flashed and thunder roared—a new and calamitous battle was about to erupt. Yet whether the Ancestral Sorcerers were truly prepared remained unknown.

“Elder brother, I shall summon our kin to defend our sacred mountain!” The Ancestral Sorcerers each went to rally their clansmen, leaving only Emperor Jiang seated in a daze upon his stone throne. Suddenly, Emperor Jiang remembered something and called out to his departing brothers, “Preserve those sorcerer children born of the human race. If we are defeated, they will carry on our faith.”

Every race has its own unique culture of faith; sometimes, they will fight for that faith alone, to ensure its legacy.

Emperor Jiang emerged from the depths of the great hall, gazing skyward, and roared in his heart, “The time for our decisive battle has finally come!”