Chapter 110: A Forest of the Strong

Undercurrents surged within the Northern Abyss Ice Soul Mine. Amidst the overt and covert power struggles and the formation of various factions, the Ancestor of Ice remained pleased with the internal strife. In his view, so long as these laborers remained disunited, they could never stir up any real trouble.

Yet, beyond the internal turmoil of the Ice Soul Mine, the external threats were steadily mounting. Although eight or nine out of every ten beings in the Primordial World wished to partake in this "Northern Abyss Treasure Hunt," the monopoly held by major powers and the vast distances for those with low cultivation meant that only those with sufficient strength could qualify to compete or even observe.

The Northern Abyss lay at the northernmost reaches of the Northern Sea, the extreme end of the Primordial World. The Heart of the Ice Soul resided in the deepest recesses of this abyss, perilously close to the Great Boundary and the ends of the earth. The climate here was terrifyingly harsh; even Profound Immortals had to exhaust their full strength just to survive. To traverse the hundreds of millions of feet of profound ice and extreme magnetic fields—a formation spanning billions of years—was an impossible feat even for a Great Circle True Immortal. While a Great Luo Golden Immortal might possess the means, the time required would be incalculable.

Nearly a month had passed since Qingxu first released the news. Within that month, countless beings from all hundred tribes of the Primordial World had converged upon the Northern Abyss. Due to the unique environment, the extreme reaches of the abyss had filtered out the majority of the enthusiastic masses; without the cultivation of a Profound Immortal, one lacked even the qualification to witness the spectacle.

Despite the climate, the extreme reaches of the Northern Abyss were "overflowing with people." A glance revealed a dense, swarming crowd of bizarre and varied creatures. The gathered Profound Immortals formed a terrifying force, numbering at least a million, with Great Circle True Immortals appearing from time to time. Truly, the strong were as numerous as trees in a forest or rain in a storm. Yet, these were merely appetizers; they had only the status of onlookers. Should they overestimate themselves and intervene, there would be but one outcome: total annihilation of body and soul.

The Primordial World was cold and realistic: the strong set the rules, and the weak could only abide by them. In truth, anyone who was not a fool understood these unspoken rules. Great Luo Golden Immortals were formidable existences in the current Primordial era, each possessing the capital to establish a sect and become an ancestor of their own domain. In this dispute, these Great Luo Golden Immortals formed their own inner circle, monopolizing the situation and barring anyone lacking that realm from joining.

To the Profound Immortals and True Immortals, the Great Luo Golden Immortals appeared glorious, but only the Great Luos themselves understood that their chances of success were slim. First, the difficulty of competing for food from the mouths of tigers was self-evident. Second, should supreme Quasi-Saints intervene, their chances would vanish entirely. Nevertheless, they had to try; if, by some miracle, no Quasi-Saints appeared, would they not have squandered a golden opportunity by giving up?

"Ancestor Cangying, your cultivation is the highest here. Do you have any suggestions?" a ten-foot giant with the head of an ox and the body of a man, wielding a rod of mixed iron, asked in a muffled voice. He addressed a greyish-white eagle, a hundred miles in size, circling in the sky. The eagle was quite peculiar: it possessed a third eye in the center of its brow, four vast wings, and five claws beneath its belly.

Ancestor Cangying was a remnant exotic beast from the ancient era, belonging to the lineage of the Primordial Phoenix. Among this circle of Great Luo Golden Immortals, his cultivation was supreme—at least on the surface, he was the strongest, his peak Great Luo Golden Immortal cultivation commanding respect.

Hearing the ox-headed giant, Ancestor Cangying surveyed his surroundings. Seeing the three hundred-plus Great Luo Golden Immortals all watching him with an attitude of indifference, he mused, "Among the Great Luo, who is not arrogant? While I appear to have the highest cultivation, it is impossible that none of these others are hiding their true strength or possess powerful spiritual treasures that could rival my own. Even without Quasi-Saints interfering, seizing the treasure will be fraught with difficulty! Furthermore, as the saying goes, two fists cannot defeat four hands; if several powerful Great Luos unite, I am more likely to lose than win."

"Hahaha, Great King Mangniu, you are too modest. I dare not claim to offer suggestions, but this stalemate cannot continue. How about we all join forces to clear a path to the Heart of the Ice Soul, and then discuss the distribution of the treasure?" Cangying proposed magnanimously. It was a choice born of necessity; everyone was wary of one another, fearing a sneak attack if they were the first to act. Moreover, clearing the path would consume significant energy, which was detrimental to the final struggle. No one was foolish enough to perform such a thankless task. Those who had cultivated to the level of Great Luo Golden Immortal were all immensely talented, possessing great perseverance and wisdom.

"Daoist Cangying’s words are indeed reasonable."
"An excellent suggestion!"
"Well said, we should join our forces to clear the path."

In truth, all the Great Luo Golden Immortals wanted to clear the path and retrieve the treasure; time was of the essence, and should a supreme Quasi-Saint arrive, their chances would evaporate. Since no one was willing to take the risk alone, why not do it together?

Just as the Great Luo immortals were reaching a consensus, clouds of smoke and thousands of rays of auspicious light rolled across the southern horizon. A vast, orderly army approached, led by four figures—Di Jun, Tai Yi, Kunpeng, and Bai Ze. Three Quasi-Saints and one peak Great Luo Golden Immortal—such a lineup was truly shocking.

"Quasi-Saints?" Feeling the undisguised aura of the three, Ancestor Cangying and his cohorts were filled with both dread and depression. They wisely abandoned their dreams of seizing the treasure. Relying on a mere three hundred uncoordinated Great Luo Golden Immortals to snatch a prize from three Quasi-Saints was nothing but a pipe dream.

"Hmph! A bunch of ants, delusional enough to covet the God-Slaying Spear. Truly courting death," Tai Yi sneered with disdain upon seeing the gathering.

"Our concern now should be the other Quasi-Saints. Styx and the Ancestral Witches are not to be trifled with," Di Jun murmured, his voice heavy with worry, though clearly audible to the others.

"The Lord's concerns are valid. Innate spiritual treasures are not ordinary, and the God-Slaying Spear even more so. Such a supreme treasure, comparable to an Innate Cardinal Treasure, might even tempt the Primordial Saints to intervene. The hope of securing the treasure smoothly is slim indeed," Bai Ze analyzed, shaking his head with a grimace.

"Hmph! With my Chaos Bell, I can contend even with a Primordial Saint," Tai Yi said proudly. He had always believed that with the Chaos Bell, he could at least protect himself against a Saint. The only reason he had not acted was his wariness of the Saints' immortality and their inexhaustible power.

"Primordial Saints are boundless and eternal, their divine abilities unfathomable. We must not underestimate them. If a Saint intervenes, our chances are indeed slim. However, we must strive for it; even under the grand trend of the Heavenly Dao, is there not a glimmer of hope?" Di Jun laughed, his spirit soaring with ambition.

Not long after the arrival of Di Jun's group, another force descended aggressively. Leading them were two figures: one with a python's head and human body, draped in black scales, stepping on black dragons and entwined with green pythons; the other, with a tiger's head and human body, four hooves, and long elbows, holding snakes in his hands and mouth. These were two of the famed Twelve Ancestral Witches: Gonggong and Qiangliang. Behind them followed one hundred Great Witches and three hundred thousand Witch warriors, all looking fierce and formidable.

The Witches were all grotesquely formed, some with snakes coiled around their arms, others stepping on colorful dragons.

"You lot, be sensible and leave at once, or I shall wipe you all out!" As soon as they arrived, Gonggong bellowed with supreme arrogance. It was no surprise; the Witch Clan currently dominated the Primordial World, and the Twelve Ancestral Witches held even the Primordial Saints in little regard, let alone this crowd. Had it not been for the presence of the three Quasi-Saints—Di Jun, Tai Yi, and Kunpeng—Gonggong would not have wasted breath and would have simply slaughtered them all.

"Since when has the Primordial World belonged solely to your Witch Clan?"
"Everyone knows your clan lacks primordial spirits and cannot refine spiritual treasures. If they fall into your hands, they will only gather dust. This is the will of heaven; you should act accordingly, or disaster will soon follow!"
"Wipe us out? Hmph, that is beyond your capability!"

Indignation flared. The three hundred-plus Great Luo Golden Immortals accused the Witches one after another. Meanwhile, Di Jun and his group sneered; together with these Great Luo, they did not fear the current Witch force. The Ancestral Witches were strong, but with three against two, and possessing the Chaos Bell and the River Map and Luo Shu, they had high odds of victory. The only weakness in their ranks—the middle-tier power—had been compensated for. Who feared whom?

"You are courting death!" Seeing this, Qiangliang was also enraged.

The atmosphere turned grim, and a great battle seemed imminent. Just then, two more figures arrived in tandem.

"Hahaha, the treasure has yet to manifest; are you not all a bit too impatient?"
"Zhen Yuanzi? Hongyun?" Di Jun's group and the Twelve Ancestral Witches, having attended the sermons of Hongjun at the Purple Heaven Palace, recognized them immediately.

Before the two could mediate, others arrived one by one. Ancestor Styx, the Eastern Prince, the Queen Mother of the West, the Daoist Fuxi... almost every Quasi-Saint with a public presence in the Primordial World had arrived. Not one was missing; at least twenty were visible.

With such a luxurious lineup of twenty-plus Quasi-Saints, even a Primordial Saint would have to tread carefully. Though they possessed immortal bodies, losing face was a certainty. In truth, the gap in power between a Primordial Saint and a Quasi-Saint was not insurmountable. Under normal circumstances, ten peak Quasi-Saints joining forces could contend with a Saint and even suppress one for a short duration. However, if the battle dragged on, the exhaustion of power would inevitably lead to their defeat. (This referred only to the Saint's own power; should they borrow the energy of the Heavenly Dao, it would be nothing short of bullying.)

With so many Quasi-Saints appearing at once, even the arrogant Ancestral Witches were stunned. They were arrogant, but not brainless. In such a situation, they dared not be reckless, lest the one hundred Great Witches and three hundred thousand warriors they brought be decimated.

"Sigh! If I had known, we should have brought all twelve Ancestral Witches," Gonggong and Qiangliang thought to themselves.