Chapter Thirty-Six: The Mystic Yellow Bowl

Effortlessly dispatching the two fire witch commanders, the remaining fire witch guards fell into chaos—some fled in terror, others resisted desperately, while others stumbled about, lost and hopeless. They were scattered like sand. For the Witch Tribe, their commanders were pillars of faith; once those pillars collapsed, their spirits faltered and their strength diminished by severalfold at least.

With merely a few thousand left, how could they possibly stir up any waves? Before the late-stage cultivation of the two brothers, Gale and Mountain, both Da Luo Golden Immortals, they were no match—each blow claimed another life. Within a few punches and kicks, the fire witch guards suffered devastating casualties. After a futile resistance, the survivors began to flee—not only out of fear for their lives, but also to ensure that news of this calamity could reach the ancestral Witch, Zhu Rong, for vengeance. If all perished here, the upheaval would never reach his ears. Besides, with both commanders slain in a single strike, continued struggle was meaningless; how could they hope to win?

The fire witch guards sought to escape, but the Giant Spirits would not allow it. Control of the situation firmly in their grasp, they would not let their deadly enemies slip away. Numbers prevailed: hundreds of thousands of Giant Spirits encircled the few thousand fire witches. No matter how fiercely the latter fought, they could not carve a path through the sea of foes, forced to watch their comrades fall one after another, powerless to help.

"What’s wrong with these Giant Spirits? Victory is certain, the battle decided—why are they all sorrowful?" Qingxu found it strange that the Giant Spirits showed only grief, even after Gale and Mountain transformed into Yellow Turban Warriors, as if parting in life and death.

"Parting in life and death? Could it be... that transforming into Yellow Turban Warriors comes at the price of their lives? Or something close to death?" The scene before him provoked Qingxu’s wild conjecture.

As Qingxu pondered, the conflict gradually subsided. Under the assault of the two Yellow Turban Warriors and the hundreds of thousands of Giant Spirits, the last fire witch guards perished bitterly, though not without slaying tens of thousands of Giant Spirits in their final moments, inflicting substantial losses.

"Chief, you—?"

"Detestable Witch Tribe! Zhu Rong, my clan will never coexist with yours!"

As everything drew to a close, the victorious Giant Spirits felt no joy, only grief and fury. They surrounded the two brothers, Gale and Mountain; many could not hold back their tears, weeping aloud, their sorrow deeply moving.

"Fellow clansmen, given the current circumstances, we have thoroughly antagonized the Witch Tribe. Before long, the great witches of the Fire Witch Tribe will come, perhaps even the ancestral Witch Zhu Rong himself. This Red Rock Hills are now a place of strife; we cannot linger. Elder, quickly lead the chief to escape and hide!" Gale declared loudly.

"Brother speaks wisely. Our deaths are imminent, but there are still some last affairs to arrange. Elder, do as my brother says." Mountain sighed helplessly.

"No! We are not cowards; we vow to live and die with the chief and the deputy chief!" An elderly Giant Spirit emerged from the crowd, his hair white, skin shriveled with age—a true elder of the clan—his voice cold and resolute.

"Live and die together!" The hundreds of thousands of Giant Spirits shouted in unison, their voices shaking the heavens and stirring the earth.

"This is an order! Will you not even obey my last command as chief? Do you truly wish our clan to vanish from the world?" Gale roared in fury, eyes wide, his imposing presence overwhelming.

"...As you command!" The elder hesitated, but after weighing the matter, could only comply. Blood and emotion had clouded his judgment before, but now, thinking clearly, he knew the clan must come first—the Giant Spirits could not be pushed to extinction.

"Elder?" Some Giant Spirits, dissatisfied, shouted angrily when they saw him yield.

"Go!" The elder sighed and ordered the clan to depart.

Though reluctant, the Giant Spirits had no choice but to obey the commands of their chief, deputy chief, and elder, leaving one by one, each departure tinged with sorrow.

"Ah, the Giant Spirits and Witch Tribe have forged a deep enmity. When the war between witches and monsters comes, it will surely be tumultuous!" From the sadness and anger in their eyes, Qingxu saw a burning hatred kindled in their hearts, a fire that, once ignited, would erupt like a volcano and destroy all in its path.

Boom! Boom! Boom!...

The ground trembled as Gale and Mountain strode purposefully toward Qingxu. In just a few steps they stood before him, saying nothing more, then knelt and bowed thrice, calling out, "Benefactor!"

"What are you doing?" Faced with such a display for the first time, Qingxu was at a loss, unsure how to respond.

"Benefactor! You aided our clan in its hour of need, a grace as vast as the heavens and the sea. These three bows are firstly to thank you, and secondly, to make a request."

"A request? What is it? Speak plainly." Qingxu felt a flicker of irritation—he had saved the Giant Spirits, and now they dared to ask more? If his cultivation were greater, he’d slap them both dead on the spot.

Gale seemed to sense Qingxu’s displeasure, his face reddening as he stammered, unable to speak, bowing his head in silence.

Seeing this, Mountain grew anxious and could not hold back: "Our clan has incurred a great debt with the Witch Tribe. Benefactor, your powers are vast, as you have already shown—far beyond our comprehension. My brother and I have an unreasonable request: we hope that, in the future, you will look after our clan, merely ensuring it is not destroyed. Of course, we would not ask you to help for nothing; we are willing to offer our clan’s most precious treasure!"

"What?" Qingxu was deeply shocked. First, the request—this would set him against the Witch Tribe! They certainly thought highly of him; even his master, the Primal Origin, might not dare boast so boldly. Second, the reward—indeed, it was the clan's vital treasure that had sparked this deadly conflict, and now they were offering it freely?

"Are these Giant Spirits out of their minds? So many clansmen died, they’ve antagonized the Witch Tribe, and now, after finally preserving their precious treasure, they offer it up as casually as a cabbage at the roadside?"

"No, it can’t be so simple—there must be some hidden mystery." With over a decade of experience in his previous life, Qingxu was not naive; the sudden temptation made him wary, sure there was more beneath the surface.

"This... ahem, this vital treasure? Well... it’s... ahem!" Mountain began to stammer as he mentioned the so-called clan treasure.

"What exactly is your clan’s vital treasure?" After waiting a long while and hearing nothing useful, Qingxu could not help but ask.

"Our clan’s treasure is the Innate Spiritual Treasure, the Xuanhuang Bowl!" Gale answered, dropping a thunderbolt.

"Innate Spiritual Treasure? Xuanhuang Bowl?" Qingxu exclaimed, face filled with astonishment.

Xuanhuang Bowl? The name alone was extraordinary. Xuanhuang—what did that mean? Such things were born only when Pangu opened the primal world! Among the Three Pure Ones, the Supreme Sage’s treasured Heaven and Earth Xuanhuang Pagoda was forged from xuanhuang energy. If the Xuanhuang Bowl was truly made of such energy, it would indeed be a rare and supreme spiritual treasure.