Chapter 168: Will Not Cease Easily

Hou Tu Ancestor Shaman gazed at the mountain‑river state map Zhou Yi sent, pondering: "The ambitions of this human emperor are far‑reaching, yet he can see through the flaw in our clan's bloodline. If the Wu Clan faces calamity in the future…"

Zhou Yi stood alone atop Shouyang Mountain peak, watching the Renzu Buluo's growing Heavenly Dao fortune and martial Dao brilliance.

The gears of the third Great Calamity have already turned, and the piece named "Human Race" on the Heavenly Dao chessboard is silently shifting in his hand.

Inside the Human Race's holy temple, Master Miao Le's sermon still reverberates through heaven and earth. Zhou Yi sits calmly on the cloud platform, his whole being suffused with Dao resonance flowing like an inverted Milky Way.

The life‑and‑death clash earlier with the Demon Race's supreme now turns into countless Dao rule fragments in the Sea of Knowledge, gradually coalescing into brilliant Dao patterns beneath the shadow of the Tai Chi diagram.

A dark golden light streams from Zhou Yi's brow, manifesting a furnace of myriad laws. The chaotic aura generated by the trembling of the Tai Yi Bell now serves as fuel for tempering the primal source.

If the Demon Emperor Qun were here, he would surely realize that the seemingly rushed engagement that day was in fact a meticulous scheme by the opponent to prove his Dao by borrowing strength.

When the purple aura rose from Shouyang Mountain for three thousand li, the Ming He Ancestor, deep within the Sea of Blood, suddenly opened his eyes.

The twelfth‑grade fiery red lotus ignites without wind, reflecting his ever‑changing expression: "The innate treasure of the Tai Qing Sheng Ren is willing to shield the Human Race, yet this move proves my miscalculation."

A crisp crack of shattering ice crystals echoes from the Northern Nether Abyss, and the celestial star map on the dome of the Demon Master's palace trembles violently.

The Great Peng Bird Daoist crushes the turtle shell in his hand, and the hexagram's heavenly secret makes his pupils contract: "Nourish the Dao through battle, use the Saint's momentum to feed the clan; this person even turns the Great Calamity's fortune into a stepping stone!"

On the Enlightenment Cliff atop Shouyang Peak, a chaotic blue lotus formed from three hundred and sixty Daoist principles floats before Zhou Yi.

The lingering solar true fire of the Tai Yi circulates among the petals, imprinting the projections of the heavens' stars onto each lotus leaf.

When the phantom of the Ziwei Imperial Star appears at the flower's core, the spiritual energy of the entire Human Race sanctuary suddenly boils.

The sighs from the Nine Abyss and the gaze of Tōri Heaven converge here, and the great beings of Honghuang finally realize: this Human Race, who forged its own cultivation system, is remolding the path of cultivation with heaven and earth as a furnace.

The thousand‑year period of sermons may be the countdown to the dawning of a new era.

Under the blood‑red sky, Ming He, clad in a scarlet robe, stands with his arms crossed, the fiery red lotus beneath his feet exhaling eerie light: "Your words are spot on, Dao companion; the protection of the Tai Qing Sheng Ren is limited. When Master Miao Le's sermon ends, that will be the moment the Human Race meets its demise."

The Demon Master Great Peng Bird, perched atop the Nether Blood Waves, sneers, his clearly jointed talons slicing the void: "I want to see how the ancient holy body, stripped of the Tai Chi diagram's protection, can resist the combined might of you and me."

As the two ancient great beings gaze at each other, the surging waves of the Sea of Blood freeze.

They clearly recall the scene atop Mount Buzhou that day: Zhou Yi's holy body radiated golden light, striking the Chaotic Bell; his fist's surge even knocked down stars from the thirty‑three layers beyond the heavens.

Yet this display of power, seen by the two Quasi Saints, is like a player who sees through the whole game, already having spotted a fatal flaw.

"This youth merely imitates the Wu Clan's body‑refining technique," Ming He lightly stroked the hilt of his Abyssal Sword, the cold gleam swirling on the Witch‑slaying Sword sheath reflecting mockery in his eyes:

"The ancestral shaman is born with innate understanding of the profound laws, yet he only possesses brute force. When I trap his actions with the Xuanyuan Water‑controlling Banner, your Northern Nether Prison will perfectly counter his golden holy body."

Behind the Demon Master, a sky‑blocking Peng Bird phantom materializes, his tone grim: "At that time, still beware the Tai Qing Sheng Ren…"

"The Heavenly Dao bears witness!" Ming He abruptly interjects, the fiery red lotus beneath his feet suddenly soaring, "I swear upon the Nether Blood Sea; this cause and effect now rests upon me. Even if the Saint himself appears, the heavenly punishment cannot be defied."

A thousand li away, the Human Race tribe watches as Zhou Yi, thoughtful, gazes at the horizon. His fingertips whiten as he clenches, a bronze war spear leaves a deep blood scar in his palm.

As a transmigrator, he knows better than anyone the impending blood‑colored calamity: under the Demon Race's Witch‑slaying Sword lie piles of corpses, and women and children's desperate cries—memories etched deep in his soul.

"Almost there," he murmurs, the golden radiance of his ancient holy body swirling deep within his pupils.

From afar, Master Miao Le's sermon drifts ethereally, countless Human Race cultivators bathe in Daoist scriptures to breakthrough realms. Beneath this peaceful façade, the most lethal scheme of Honghuang has already unfolded.

In the Honghuang era, when Zhou Yi led the Human Race tribe through the third migration, the clatter of bronze vessels awakened the slumbering He Tu and Luo Shu.

After nine stellar track shifts, this group that once curled at the eastern sea's shore has now erected twelve observatory platforms on the Deer Hunt Plain.

"If destiny demands the Human Race to bleed…" Zhou Yi gazes at the newly cracked divination markings on the turtle shell, the totem in his palm flickering.

The hundred‑year‑old contest with the Demon Court birthed a seven‑layered glazed halo around his Dao heart. Now the aftershocks of the Tai Yi Bell still reverberate in his bloodline, yet can no longer shift the three‑inch mountains and rivers beneath his feet.

Master Miao Le's sermon platform floats above the Yunmeng Marsh, nine thousand six hundred black‑iron chains descending to the mortal realm.

Whenever the lunar phase turns, the bronze chime automatically tolls, solidifying Dao resonance into tangible jade tablets that scatter across the earth.

On the day the seventh Jiazi arrives, Zhou Yi sees the first Human Race youth who independently comprehends the celestial cycle, an innate Bagua phantom forming on his forehead.

The Demon Court's silence is unnervingly eerie. Deep within the Northern Nether Sea's eye, the true forms of the Twelve Ancestral Witches are devouring chaotic primal qi, the cracks in their armor being filled by the weak waters of the Heavenly River.

In the Yu Qiang stone chest recently sent by the Gonggong clan, a half‑broken Demon‑summoning Banner is sealed; this fragment oozes faint golden blood on full‑moon nights.

When the thousand‑year period ends, Master Miao Le's Dao robe will have shed its three‑color brilliance.

When his fingertip touches Zhou Yi's brow, the Kunlun Mirror's projection suddenly appears within the clouds: nine three‑legged crows circle Mount Buzhou, and with each rotation, the crown of Demon Emperor Qun gains another crack.

"Your Dao is not within the Bagua," Master Miao Le says, his withdrawing finger stirring stardust, "When the He Tu is fully dyed red, remember to sink the Luo Shu into the returning void."

Zhou Yi watches the sermon platform dissolve into streaming light, his palm's totem suddenly scorching.

From deep within the clouds, the sound of a tree sprouting echoes; he knows this is the Wu Clan reforging the Sun‑shooting Bow.

When twelve observatory platforms ignite simultaneously, he hears a hundred scriptures within his body transform into three thousand runes, reconstituting into brand‑new Heavenly Dao laws.

Although most of the Human Race may not adopt the Miao Le inheritance, his essential Dao methods greatly benefit Human Race cultivation.

Facing the crowd's thanks, Master Miao Le, clad in a plain Dao robe, lightly waves a dust‑sweeping Dao: "Being of the same Human Race bloodline, witnessing the tribe's prosperity is my greatest wish."

This protection not only manifested during the thousand‑year sermon, but also shielded the Human Race during the Demon Race's invasion. Zhou Yi, clad in beast‑skin battle armor, grips his stone axe and vows: "Please, venerable one, bear witness; the Human Race will surely spread its branches across this Honghuang earth."

Master Miao Le looks at the distant plume of smoke rising from the tribe, speaking earnestly: "With a leader as bold as you, the tribe's future is promising. Before you depart, remember, the Demon Race will not cease easily."