Chapter 155: The One Who Forgets His Roots

He reached out and caught the drifting azure feather, the life feather that originally belonged to the North Sea Jiao Demon now dim and lifeless.

The heart‑devouring curse he sowed ten days ago burned in his palm, reminding him that some audacious fool dared to slaughter his direct followers.

"Very good…" the sinister cawing laugh echoed through the hall, the demon markings on the sorcerer's forehead flickering.

Since the incident in Ten‑Fire Valley, he has never forgotten the sword‑light that tore the void, nor the mysterious cultivator in a bronze mask who not only snatched the easily‑grasped Hongmeng violet aura but also nearly severed his destined demon core.

Now, with old wounds still unhealed and new hatred added, a mournful wail of ten thousand ghosts rose from his dark‑sleeved robe.

Unaware of the looming crisis, Zhou Yi in the secret chamber etched his destined Dao pattern onto the inner wall of the celestial bell with a fingertip‑like brush; the spiritual energy surging from the Wheel Sea secret realm turned into golden liquid, and each stroke made the bell body roar.

The moment the thirty‑six hundredth talisman was completed, the bronze ancient bell suddenly burst into nine‑coloured sunrise glow, its sound crossing temporal barriers and stirring ripples beyond the thirty‑three heavens.

Fate's twists often begin by chance. While the great Demon Race being Great Peng Bird was healing its wounds, it accidentally discovered that integrating Human Race souls could accelerate recovery.

This revelation greatly uplifted its spirit; if it could gather enough Human Race essences, its shattered demon core could be reforged before the Great Calamity ends.

At this moment, during the crucial stage of the Witch‑Demon Great Calamity, the gravely wounded Great Peng Bird could not execute many stratagems.

It immediately dispatched a trusted Jiao Demon to the Human Race territories, intending to plunder the populace for healing resources.

In the eyes of all beings of Honghuang, the frail Human Race were merely lambs awaiting slaughter, so the Jiao Demon's mission should have been a simple capture.

Yet fate toyed with them; the Jiao Demon not only failed to bring back a single soul fragment, but also perished on the shores of the East Sea.

The Great Peng Bird stared at the broken fate tablet, falling into contemplation; the Jiao Demon's death was hardly regrettable, but this abnormal incident hinted at hidden machinations within the Human Race.

The severely wounded sorcerer became unusually cautious and at once decided to enlist the aid of the Demon Race's higher echelons.

"Could the Sui Huang inheritance have another guardian?" the Great Peng Bird's eyes glittered as it swept its sleeve, soaring clouds toward the Sun God Palace.

At that moment, the Demon Emperor Qun and Taiyi Shen were devising the celestial star array, and the sorcerer's journey might spawn new variables.

Simultaneously, a ten‑thousand‑foot glow blossomed atop Shouyang Mountain. Zhou Yi stepped slowly out of his cave dwelling, the celestial bell in his hand swirling with mysterious yellow‑black qi.

After a hundred days of sacrificial refinement, this primal treasure had already engraved his destined seal; the bell's surface displayed a human‑path totem that shone alongside the map of mountains, rivers and state.

"Had I obtained this bell earlier, Taiyi's Chaos Bell might not have been able to protect the Great Peng Bird," Zhou Yi stroked the bell, feeling the vast power it contained.

A sound of breaking space suddenly came from the direction of the Human Race's holy temple; Sui Huang stepped through fire and announced, "Report to Human Ancestor, Master Miao Le arrives with the Taiji Diagram, awaiting in the temple."

The appearance of the Ren Sect's first disciple caused Zhou Yi's brows to twitch.

When the Tai Qing Sage founded his sect and attained sainthood, he accepted only Miao Le as a disciple, a stark contrast to the two other sects that widely recruited followers.

Now that the Great Calamity is about to begin, this senior disciple who resides deep within the Eight Scenes Palace has suddenly visited, and his motives merit scrutiny.

As Zhou Yi entered the temple, violet qi streamed eastward for thirty‑thousand li. Miao Le, holding a Yin‑Yang Dust Sweeper, stood atop the Bagua Formation Diagram, with faint phantom shadows of the Taiji dual‑forms hovering behind.

This seemingly ordinary meeting, however, concealed subtle traces of the Sage's grand design.

Under the Tai Qing's seat, first disciple Master Miao Le was surrounded by innate Dao resonance; every gesture formed its own cosmic law, clearly indicating he had attained the Great Luo Dao Fruit.

This is truly astonishing; since the Tai Qing Sage opened the altar on Shouyang Mountain to teach, only six hundred years have passed.

It should be known that the Human Race's four ancient sages—Sui Ren, You Chao, Zi Yi, and Zhi Sheng—each earned the Heavenly Dao's favor through their contributions to repairing the heavens, using boundless merit to break their shackles.

Even those of Human Ancestor blood find it hard to reach the Great Luo threshold within a millennium of orthodox cultivation.

Miao Le's achievements, besides his own extraordinary foundation, are further amplified by the Tai Qing Sage's enlightenment.

The Sage's personally transmitted Nine‑turn Golden Core secret method, combined with the Eight Scenes Palace's unique Mixed‑Primordial One Qi Technique, is a legacy far beyond any Foundation Establishment method taught to the Human Race.

When Miao Le explained his purpose, Zhou Yi appeared outwardly calm, yet his heart surged with waves.

"By my master's command I have guarded the Human Race for a hundred years; not only to examine the Dao seed but also to widely spread the true teachings of the mysterious sect," Miao Le's Dust Sweeper fluttered, and behind him the Yin‑Yang Taiji phantom shadows appeared, "If anyone possesses superior aptitude, they should inherit the Ren Sect's robe and bowl."

Ordinary members of the Human Race, upon hearing this, would be ecstatic, believing the Sage's lineage shields them; what fear could the Demon Race have?

Yet in Zhou Yi's sea of knowledge, fragments of future time flickered: Nüwa watched the Human Race's catastrophe with cold eyes, Tai Qing sealed the gates of the Eight Scenes Palace, and a blood‑red hue stained Mount Buzhou in vivid vision.

The Sage's sudden goodwill now must be linked to the affairs of the You Ming Blood Sea.

When the Hou Tu Ancestor Shaman once transformed into the Six Realms of Reincarnation, using Human Race qi to animate the map of mountains, rivers and state, that saintly gaze that pierced the Nine Abyss ultimately left its mark.

Zhou Yi tapped the Kongtong Seal at his waist with his fingertips; the warm, refined feel of the primal treasure steadied his mind slightly.

In Miao Le's seemingly gentle gaze lay a clear intent to probe cause and effect.

This sudden transmission of doctrine is likely far more complex than it appears on the surface.

The Tai Qing's divine perception shifted ever so slightly, instantly understanding mortal conditions; sending his first disciple Miao Le to spread the teachings was a perfectly reasonable arrangement.

Before the Green‑robed Daoist could finish speaking, he glanced at Zhou Yi's slightly furrowed brow, his fingertip repeatedly rubbing the rim of the tea cup as if a thousand‑pound burden pressed against his throat.

"It seems you have reservations?" Miao Le's Dust Sweeper fluttered, his eyebrows under the jade crown taking on a probing tone.

Zhou Yi set the earthen cup down heavily; the cup's base struck the stone table with a crisp clang, "A month ago a horde of demons raided the Weishui tribe at night; though the warriors repelled them with a torch formation, words drifted from the demon clouds…"

His Adam's apple rolled as his voice deepened, "Those wretched beasts actually think devouring the Human Race will boost their cultivation."

"Nonsense!" Miao Le's wide sleeves summoned a gust of fresh wind, "Mortal flesh bears no spiritual power; it must be petty ruffians spreading rumors. Let me here set a Taiji Dual‑forms formation; even if the demon commander arrives, he cannot cross the thunder‑pool."

The candlelight in the tent flickered, and as Zhou Yi rose to bow, a strand of hair fell over his eyes, dimming the inner glow, "Having received the Sage's mercy, my entire clan feels the five‑inner resonance, yet…"

He paused, "I have heard the Northern Sea Demon Master Palace has been unusually active lately, perhaps the propagation of the Dao has angered the Demon Court."

"How dare these scaly, horned brutes defy the Sage's decree?" Miao Le snapped his cultivation technique, the Taiji sigil at his waist glowing softly, "Tomorrow at dawn I will gather the tribal elders; I shall expound the Golden Core Path."

As the teal cloud pattern faded into dusk, four figures emerged from behind the screen.

Sui Huang's palm ignited a scarlet spark, scorching the stone table, "What a forgetful disciple, spouting the Sage's teachings constantly—do you still recall whose milk you sucked in the cradle?"

The Zi Yi Clan twirled the hem of a hemp cloth garment and sneered, "If it weren't for the princess enduring humiliation to negotiate, would he truly think himself a savior deity?"

You Chao waved a bone staff on the ground, and outside the tent the roar of three thousand warriors brandishing spears rang out.