At the base of Mount Sumeru, the agonizing, blood-curdling screams of Jieyin and Zhunti echoed through the air. The sound was so wretched that even living beings separated by vast stretches of time and space felt a chill crawl down their spines.
"What is happening? How did the promised Merit turn into a Divine Scourge?!"
"Hahaha! It seems mimicking the Empress's creation is a one-way ticket to heavenly punishment. We should thank them for being the cautionary tale; otherwise, the consequences for the rest of us would be unthinkable."
"Hehe, I can't help but laugh!"
"How brutal!"
The various Great Powers and immortals erupted in a collective roar of laughter. To their ears, the wails of the Western Duo were as sweet as celestial music. The fact that the two had failed to Achieve Sainthood provided a profound sense of relief and smug satisfaction to the onlookers. These two had tested the waters with their own lives, proving once and for all that creating a new species was not a viable shortcut.
Yuanshi, witnessing this, felt the tension leave his body. A false alarm. During the initial buildup, he had truly feared the two were about to ascend, a prospect that had terrified him to his core.
"The path of creation is blocked," Laozi remarked, stroking his beard with a satisfied chuckle. "Fellow Daoist Nuwa's creation of Humanity was a mandate of Heaven. The actions of Jieyin and Zhunti were nothing more than a comedy of errors."
He once again adopted the air of the enlightened master. Tongtian looked at his elder brother with a peculiar expression, thinking to himself: Weren't you just as scared as anyone else a moment ago? Now you're back to playing the veteran teacher...
"A pity we no longer have our Primordial Violet Qi," Yuanshi lamented, a cold light flickering in his eyes. "Without it, we cannot sense the spark of ascension. Only by reaching Sainthood can we wash away our previous humiliations and take our revenge."
"Heh, there is no need for concern. The Dao Ancestor stated we are the ordained Saints of Heaven," Laozi replied, his gaze deep and inscrutable. Yuanshi nodded, his heart finally finding some peace.
Mount Sumeru
The terrifying Lightning Tribulation finally receded, leaving behind a charred wasteland. All 129,600 members of the "Buddha Race" had been reduced to ash; not a single soul remained.
Jieyin and Zhunti lay paralyzed on the scorched earth, their skin flayed and blackened. They remained motionless, their auras flickering like dying embers. After a long while, they managed to crawl up. With hair resembling a bird's nest and vacant, glazed eyes, they stared at the ruin surrounding them. Their minds had completely short-circuited.
Zixiao Palace
Hongjun withdrew his gaze and let out a long, involuntary sigh of relief. Finally, some peace. If those two "evil creatures" weren't still necessary for his plans, he would have struck them dead himself just to save his own blood pressure. Their desire for Sainthood was understandable, but this was not the way.
The order of the Saints was fixed. The Sanqing had to ascend first before the Western Duo could have their turn. With a thought, Hongjun sent a divine decree to Yujing Mountain. Upon receiving the summons, Laozi, Yuanshi, and Tongtian rose with joy and hurried toward Zixiao Palace.
The Sea of Blood
As the thunder died down over the infinite expanse of red, Styx floated powerlessly on the surface. He had been struck, though the lightning hadn't been as merciless as it was in the West.
The strangest part was that his Asura race hadn't been destroyed. They had survived, but something was... wrong. Groups of Asuras were rolling and intertwining on the waves in pairs and clusters, performing a frantic, carnal "symphony of flesh." Looking across the endless sea, this bizarre, heart-shaking spectacle spanned as far as the eye could see.
Styx's smile froze. He was horrified, utterly baffled by his own creation's behavior.
"What... what are these things?"
"Did I really create them?"
"I am a deity of high character and noble spirit—why do these creatures look nothing like me?"
Styx's face turned green. His ears were filled with the rising, indescribable sounds of the Asuras' passion. He couldn't take it anymore. To be clear, he didn't want to join in.
"Bastards! You disgraceful wretches! All of you, get below the surface!"
Styx roared, nearly losing his temper and striking them all dead. If other Fellow Daoists saw this, how would he explain it? It was a total loss of dignity!
The thousands of Asuras paused, turning their blood-red eyes toward Styx in unison. A flicker of fear crossed their faces, and with a collective whoosh, they all dove beneath the waves. The indescribable sounds and the "magnificent" sight finally vanished.
For the first time in his existence, Styx felt the meaning of true silence. But it didn't last long; soon, familiar, muffled sounds began to drift up from the depths.
"Just destroy it all. I'll start over!" Styx felt numb. He hadn't received any Sainthood Merit, and instead, he had ended up with this mess. However, they were his handiwork—like his own children. He couldn't quite bring himself to annihilate them entirely.
Then, he looked toward the West. When he saw the state of Mount Sumeru, his mood instantly brightened. The Western Duo had it much worse; not only were their creations incinerated, but they themselves were charred beyond recognition. By comparison, he had won big.
Mount Sumeru
Jieyin and Zhunti watched their life's work turn to dust, their hearts bleeding.
"Why... why did we fail?" Zhunti murmured, his spirit flickering. The shift from the peak of anticipation to the valley of despair had been too fast.
"The Asura race Styx created... it wasn't destroyed?" Jieyin used his divine sight to observe the Sea of Blood. He had expected Styx to be as wretched as they were, but that wasn't the case. The Asuras were still there. They were absurd, yes, but they were alive.
How can such things survive? What is the Heavenly Dao thinking?
"I've got it! It must have been Styx! His interference caused our failure!" Zhunti's mind twisted the narrative, his face contorting with rage.
Jieyin fell into deep thought. "Whether that is the case... we cannot be sure." He couldn't confirm it, but he desperately wanted to believe it.
Zixiao Palace
The Sanqing arrived before the throne.
"Teacher, we have come," Yuanshi said, stepping forward with a bow.
Hongjun sat high upon the nine-layered cloud bed. His gaze swept over the three brothers before he reached out into the void. Three strands of Primordial Violet Qi appeared in his hand. They carried a "fresh" scent—clearly, they were straight from the forge.
"Take these three strands of Primordial Violet Qi. Guard them well; do not lose them again."
Hongjun spoke with absolute gravity. Even for him, extracting these from the Dao Origin was not something done without a price.
The Sanqing respectfully accepted the Qi. Yuanshi and Tongtian absorbed theirs into their bodies without a second thought. Laozi, however, held the purple strand in his hand, a look of hesitation crossing his face.
"Absorb the Qi into your body. I will send you out directly, lest you be targeted by small, scurrilous thieves again," Hongjun said, a strange light flickering in his eyes. The "scurrilous thief" he referred to was, of course, Ling Xiao.
Upon hearing this, Laozi absorbed the Qi and bowed. "Thank you for your holy grace, Teacher."
Hongjun nodded with satisfaction. He pointed a finger, opening a direct tunnel through space to send the Sanqing back to the Great Desolation. He had anticipated that Ling Xiao might be waiting in the Chaos to intercept them and had taken precautions.
Once they were gone, Hongjun summoned Haotian and Yaochi. He had important tasks for them.