Twelve Ancestral Witches Crying at the Mountain, Xuanjian: Huh? Do I Have to Kneel and Cry Too?

“Ah, well...”

“Are we really going to cry?”

“If we actually get Father God's blessing, that's fine. But if we don't get a single thing and word gets out, where will we Twelve Ancestral Witches hide our faces?”

“Can't we set up an array? We brothers can just cry at home in private. Let's not do this in front of everyone.”

The Ancestral Witches exchanged glances, each having their own opinion.

Their main concern was simple: if they cried and Father God gave no response whatsoever, wouldn't that be immensely embarrassing?

Xuanjian shrugged and said casually, “Well, it's up to you.”

“Brothers and sisters.”

At this moment, Houtu stepped forward with an exceptionally solemn expression and said, “The defect in our Essence Souls has always been our greatest issue. It cannot be ignored. Regardless of whether it's embarrassing or yields nothing at all, we must at least give it a try, shouldn't we?”

“Little Sister is right!” Dijiang said seriously. “Without Essence Souls, we cannot discern Heaven's will, making it difficult to attain the Great Dao. We must find a way to solve this!”

“I believe Father God's will would never let His pitiful children remain trapped in innate deficiency.”

Xuanjian secretly gave Dijiang a thumbs-up.

Look at this thick-eyebrowed, big-eyed fellow Dijiang. They hadn't even reached the peak of Mount Zhou yet, and he was already dropping subtle hints to Pangu's will.

“Eldest Brother is right!”

“Little Sister is right!”

“Let's go!”

The Ancestral Witches' thought process was just that simple.

They acted on whatever popped into their heads.

Yet, they were quick to take action.

Xuanjian accompanied the Twelve Ancestral Witches, climbing step by step with solid footing toward the peak of Mount Zhou.

The lower and middle sections of Mount Zhou were manageable. Though Pangu's Great Dao pressure was present, it was not particularly intense.

When cultivators set foot there, at most, their steps were heavy and difficult.

However, once they reached the upper section of Mount Zhou, Pangu's Great Dao pressure intensified drastically. It was an absolute Great Dao suppression capable of stifling the Three Thousand Great Daos. Even if a Daluo Golden Immortal reached the upper section of Mount Zhou, they would have to bear immense pressure, with every step forward being excruciatingly difficult.

In fact!

Their immortal power, Great Dao rules, and Dao Flowers and Dao Fruits would all be suppressed into near insignificance by Pangu's Great Dao pressure.

At such a time, what was tested was purely physical strength.

However, the Twelve Ancestral Witches were direct blood descendants of Great God Pangu. Once Pangu's Great Dao pressure detected the aura of Great God Pangu's bloodline upon them, it opened a back door directly for them.

Therefore, to the Twelve Ancestral Witches, whether it was the lower, middle, or upper section of Mount Zhou, it was like walking on flat ground.

This made things miserable for Xuanjian.

Ever since his manifestation, everything Xuanjian did and every path he walked had gone smoothly without ever taking a loss. But today, on Mount Zhou, he truly experienced what preferential treatment felt like.

Currently on Mount Zhou, starting out crushed by Pangu.

“Brother Xuanjian, how about I carry you?” Houtu offered, unable to bear watching him. “With my bloodline aura protecting you, Father God's Great Dao pressure won't oppress you anymore.”

Seeing Xuanjian struggle with heavy steps, sweating profusely, and gritting his teeth as he pushed forward, Houtu felt sympathy.

After all, Xuanjian had only climbed up to accompany them. Yet while the Twelve Ancestral Witches were completely unaffected, Xuanjian alone was exhausted like a dog, weighed down by Pangu's Great Dao pressure.

“No!”

Xuanjian decisively refused. Not only was he not annoyed, but he actually smiled. “Great God Pangu's Great Dao pressure can help me temper my body and cultivate the Mysterious Art. I couldn't ask for better.”

This was indeed true. Under Pangu's Great Dao pressure, all Daos and spells were suppressed into nothingness. There was no other way except to resist with pure physical strength. However, as the physical body resisted Pangu's Great Dao pressure, it also served to temper the body.

Xuanjian was already at the Great Perfection of the Third Revolution of the Mysterious Art.

He was just one step away from breaking through to the Fourth Revolution.

It was just that after attaining Daluo, he was busy with various matters and had no time to cultivate the Nine Revolutions Mysterious Art.

Now, this was perfect.

Honed under Pangu's Great Dao pressure, Xuanjian felt the bottleneck of the Fourth Revolution loosening!

He had a premonition.

As long as he reached the peak of Mount Zhou, he would definitely be able to break through to the Fourth Revolution of the Mysterious Art, attaining a Daluo-level physical body!

Seeing Xuanjian refuse, Houtu did not force the issue, merely looking at Xuanjian with a trace of concern.

Mount Zhou connected Heaven and Earth, holding up the Nine Heavens above and suppressing the Netherworld below. Its height was unimaginable.

Xuanjian and the Twelve Ancestral Witches climbed for a full thousand years before finally reaching the peak of Mount Zhou.

Of course, if the Ancestral Witches hadn't been waiting for Xuanjian, they would have reached the top long ago.

When Xuanjian truly stepped onto the peak of Mount Zhou, he suddenly felt a wave of clarity and relief as the suppressed Great Dao rules, immortal power, and Dao Flowers and Dao Fruits all fully restored themselves.

His physical body had also reached the Daluo Golden Immortal level!

Fourth Revolution of the Mysterious Art.

Indestructible Golden Body!

His physical body was now comparable to a High-Grade Innate Spiritual Treasure!

“As expected, it matches my estimate.”

Feeling the changes in his physical body, Xuanjian nodded in satisfaction and smiled. “Fourth Revolution of the Mysterious Art, the Indestructible Golden Body. Reborn from a single drop of blood, immune to all magic, indestructible, eternal.”

“Congratulations to Brother Xuanjian on breaking through in his Mysterious Art, hahaha!”

Zhurong, the simple-minded fellow, laughed heartily in congratulations.

The other Ancestral Witches offered their congratulations one after another as well. Only Houtu was contemplating something.

“Alright.”

Dijiang's expression turned pious and solemn as he called out loudly, “Set out the sacrificial offerings and pay homage to Father God!”

At Dijiang's command, the Ancestral Witches arranged their “prey” on a temporary altar they had constructed.

The offerings might not have been exceedingly precious—just the true bodies of a few Golden Immortals, Taiyi Golden Immortals, and one Daluo Golden Immortal—but it nevertheless highlighted the filial attitude of the Twelve Ancestral Witches.

The children did not come empty-handed.

“One, two, three, start!”

As the countdown ended, sorrowful, pitiful, and aggrieved wails resounded across the peak of Mount Zhou.

The Twelve Ancestral Witches wailed in unison: “Father God!”

Dijiang: “Father God, now that you are gone, we miss you so much!”

Zhujiuyin: “Father God, your children miss you!”

Zhurong: “Waaaah! Father God, without you here, the entire Honghuang bullies us, bullies your children!”

Gonggong: “Father God, those cultivators with Essence Souls rely on having them to call us Ancestral Witches savages! Ignorant, foolish savages who don't understand the Great Dao or Heaven's will!”

Qiangliang: “Father God, you have no idea how many people talk trash about our Wu tribe behind our backs! And because we don't have Essence Souls, we can't even sense them insulting us!”

Rushou: “Father God, are they insulting us? They are insulting you!”

The four Ancestral Witches—Tianwu, Xizi, Shebishi, and Jumang—either complained about real hardships or made things up on the spot. In short, they spun whatever tales they could to paint themselves as pitifully as possible.

Finally, there were the two female Ancestral Witches, Xuanming and Houtu.

Neither of them spoke. After the signal, they knelt on the ground, silently shedding tears like tiny pearls. Their eyes were slightly red, weeping like delicate pear blossoms in the rain, looking profoundly pitiable, as if they had been deeply mistreated.

Ask yourself: what father could see his daughters crying so heartbreakingly without feeling his heart ache?

“We beg Father God to bestow upon us treasures that can generate Essence Souls!”

“Brother Xuanjian, hurry and kneel down to cry too!”

At this moment, Zhurong noticed Xuanjian standing off to the side watching the show, and waved to him, shouting, “Brother Xuanjian, quick, come over! I saved a spot for you!”