"So, Nuwa has established the Yao Race after all?"
Ling Xiao remained motionless, though a flicker of surprise crossed his mind. The System's notification was a pebble dropped into a still pond. He hadn't expected that his casual hint to Bai Ze millennia ago would ripple outward with such force, leading the strategist to convince Nuwa to step forward and forge the Myriad Races into a single entity.
From this vantage point, it seemed Nuwa's destiny was inextricably tied to the Yao. Even without his brothers' involvement, the threads of fate had pulled her toward the same center. In the original scrolls of time, she had joined only after being courted by Dijun and Tai Yi—an invitation that had always seemed a curious matter for an Innate deity of her standing.
"Fate," Ling Xiao murmured to the empty hall. "It can only be called fate."
He turned his inner eye to the three choices. The first was discarded instantly. To rush across the world just to offer congratulations for a favor—was that not the very definition of a 'simp'? He had no desire to weave his karma into the Yao Race; an uninvited visit would only create invisible tethers he spent his life avoiding.
The third choice was even more absurd. Why would he sprint into the center of a lightning storm? He had turned Bai Ze away specifically to avoid the burden of leadership. To go back now and try to 'snatch' the position from Nuwa was a logic for the brain-dead. He couldn't hide from the Yao Race fast enough; the thought of fighting for the privilege was laughable.
Even a Chaos Spirit Treasure could not move him from his seat.
"If it were a Chaos Supreme Treasure, perhaps I would consider a single step," Ling Xiao thought, decisively locking in Choice Two.
"Now... let us see what this fragment holds."
As he absorbed the reward, his spirit shuddered. His consciousness was suddenly swept into a vast, kaleidoscopic vision.
"The World Law!"
He had not expected the 'random' reward to land on such a foundational pillar of the Three Thousand Great Daos. Among the laws, there are those that govern elements and those that govern existence. The World Law was a titan of the latter. Perhaps only the ethereal concepts of Destiny or Karma could truly claim to suppress it.
It was not a singular law, but a melting pot—a synthesis of Gold, Wood, Water, Fire, Earth, Yin and Yang, and even the fundamental fabric of Space and Time. It was the master blueprint. To comprehend it through ordinary means would take an eternity of lifetimes, yet the fragment acted as a key, granting him entry to a threshold few would ever even see.
"First the threshold," Ling Xiao whispered, his breathing slowing to a crawl. "Then the mastery."
He sank into the fragment. He felt as if he were suspended in the center of a boundless universe. Brilliant laws crisscrossed his vision like a glowing, infinite net.
To build a world, one needs the Space Law as the skeletal frame. Without the wall and the foundation, there is no room for the spirit to dwell.
Ling Xiao became a silent architect. As the fragment dissolved into his soul, his understanding of spatial barriers grew three-dimensional. Around his cross-legged form in the Ling Xiao Treasure Hall, the very air began to curdle and ripple. Terrifying spatial pressure surged in rhythmic waves, turning the area around him into a pocket of the Void Realm.
While Ling Xiao cultivated in the heart of the Sun Star, the silence of the Honghuang world was shattered.
A grand, ethereal voice—vibrating with the weight of divinity—pierced through every mountain, sea, and grotto-heaven.
"Heavenly Dao above! Today, I, Nuwa, establish the Yao Race. All plants and spirits, those born of moisture, eggs, or wombs, those with fur or horns—all are of this kind!"
"And I establish the Demon Sect. I am the Demon Sect Leader. All who claim this name may enter my sect and receive my protection!"
Rumble!
The clouds above the Great Desolation shifted violently. Auspicious mists gathered into a thick, swirling canopy before a golden river of light erupted from the heavens, stretching across the sky like a celestial path.
Billions of living beings felt a sudden, profound resonance in their hearts. They looked up, their eyes reflecting the shimmering gold of the Heavenly Dao Karma.
At the foot of Mount Buzhou, a gallery of titans stood in formation. Nuwa, Kunpeng, Fuxi, and Bai Ze stood at the vanguard, their faces illuminated by the descent of the golden river. A thousand years of secret planning had finally culminated in this moment. The disparate, scattered tribes of the world now had a name: Yao.
Some had whispered that Nuwa should establish a 'Demon Court,' but the memory of Hongjun's words at Zixiao Palace stayed her hand. She did not dare to usurp the title of 'Heavenly Court' that the Saint held in reserve. Instead, she had settled on the Demon Sect—a religious and racial union that offered the same power without the direct defiance of the Saint's design.
Nuwa stood as the Sect Leader. Kunpeng and Fuxi were her Vice-Leaders. The ten great demons, led by Bai Ze and Ji Meng, were the Protectors.
Pillars of Mystic Yellow light—thick with the essence of Karma—shot down from the golden river. The light bathed the leaders, but the thickest, most vibrant pillar descended directly upon Nuwa. Under its touch, her cultivation began to surge, her understanding of the Dao deepening in a visible, radiant transformation.
Across the horizon, thousands of great demons took to the sky, whistling as they streaked toward Mount Buzhou. For tens of thousands of years, they had been the prey of the Witches, hiding in the shadows of the earth. Now, they had a banner. They had a protector. They flocked to the mountain like a tide returning to the sea.
The rest of the Honghuang world was shaken to its core. Many experts hadn't expected Nuwa to move so decisively, nor had they expected the Heavenly Dao to grant such immense Karma to a racial unification.
"She has forged a weapon to counter the Witches," the hidden masters whispered.
"Nuwa was already a Quasi-Saint, and now she holds the Karma of billions. In this age, who but a Saint can look her in the eye? The Ancestral Witches will find the earth much harder to walk tomorrow."
"We must go," others said, their voices tense. "We must congratulate the Sect Leader."
On Yujing Mountain—the former site of Hongjun's Daoist rite—the Sanqing were deep in meditation, hiding from the pursuit of the Witches.
As Nuwa's voice echoed through the dark, their eyes snapped open.
"She has done it," Laozi said, his gaze fixed on the golden river in the void. Envy, thin and sharp, flickered in his eyes. "The Heavenly Dao has granted her more Karma than I thought possible."
"Her cultivation is likely already beyond ours," Yuanshi added, his voice stiff. His Pangu pride burned in his chest; he could not easily stomach being overtaken by a peer.
"Heh," Laozi said, a faint, cold smile returning to his lips. "Establishing a race and a sect brings Karma, yes. But that Karma is not free. It is a debt. In taking it, she has placed herself directly in the path of the Twelve Ancestral Witches."
He stood up, smoothing his robes. "But come. Such a monumental event requires our presence. We must go and offer our... congratulations."