The small world within was peculiar, half daylight and half night, with a giant, grey-white cocoon at the boundary between the two, like the core of this miniature realm.
Below it, two groups of people were locked in fierce combat. One side consisted of five Golden Immortal Venerables from the Purple-striped Leopard Tribe, Mountain Wolf Tribe, and Plum Blossom Deer Tribe, among the eighteen tribes of Chongshan. Their opponents numbered only three: an old woman in green robes at the late Golden Immortal stage, whose cultivation level suppressed three Golden Immortals. This was the toad tribe venerated, and finally, the old enemy of Qing Ling, Venerable Mo Chan!
Years ago, when the Scarlet Fire Toad Tribe was annihilated, this old fellow had escaped by self-detonating his Dao body. Now, after so long, he had only reshaped his physical body, his cultivation realm remaining at the early Golden Immortal stage.
His opponent was a bare-chested man, a Golden Immortal Venerable from the strongest tribe among Chongshan, the Purple-striped Leopard Tribe. He wielded a Purple Lightning Divine Hammer, summoning lightning from all directions to engulf Venerable Mo Chan. Violet lightning, inherently yang and repelling evil, was particularly effective. Furthermore, his opponent's realm was a level higher than the old toad's.
Venerable Mo Chan was in a sorry state, his surrounding miasma of ghostly black mist largely dispersed by the violet lightning. His black robes were tattered, and his face was extremely unsightly. If not for the young woman beside him who occasionally released spirit toad puppets and mysterious pure white spiritual light to suppress the bare-chested man, Venerable Mo Chan would likely have already been defeated.
The small puppet stiffly turned its head, observing the entire battlefield without missing a detail. Finally, its gaze settled on the giant white cocoon, within which a life was being nurtured, emitting the aura of a primordial deity. Qing Ling could sense it even without being physically present.
He hadn't expected there to be a place for a deity to gestate and be born. Qing Ling's heart stirred, not for the primordial deity or spiritual treasure within the white cocoon, but for the thought of killing Venerable Mo Chan.
Their karma was intertwined; it was a battle to the death with no retreat. Even though Venerable Mo Chan's current strength was far inferior to his, the Primordial World was vast. If the old toad were to stumble upon some fortuitous encounter and surpass him, this karma could become Qing Ling's death knell.
In the current battle, there was only one late-stage Venerable. The bare-chested man and the white-clothed maiden were both mid-stage Venerables, while the rest were early-stage Venerables. Qing Ling estimated that his own combat power might be slightly stronger than an ordinary late-stage Venerable, but he certainly didn't possess the overwhelming power of a Grand Unity cultivator.
Entering the fray now was too risky. Qing Ling decided to observe from the sidelines. If Venerable Mo Chan were killed by the bare-chested man, that would be best, and he would simply turn and leave.
Even if he wasn't killed, the old toad would likely be severely weakened after a hard-fought battle. In that case, Qing Ling would become the toad-slayer!
The eight Golden Immortal Venerables on the scene fought with increasing ferocity, and this small world was barely able to withstand the strain, on the verge of collapse. This also indicated that the primordial spiritual object being nurtured within would not be excessively powerful or precious, at least not from Qing Ling's perspective.
Qing Ling, tens of thousands of miles away, controlled his puppet to secretly observe. This puppet was trembling under the pressure of the Golden Immortal might and the unleashed Dao power. Out of instinctive fear, it had developed a trace of sentience, wanting to escape.
However, Qing Ling still made the puppet remain to investigate, even though it was already half-limp. He was extremely interested in this phenomenon. While his refined puppets contained a wisp of his divine sense, they would never spontaneously develop sentience. This refined puppet, however, had gained a trace of instinct for self-preservation, which was unexpected.
Advanced puppets like those that naturally developed sentience, known as sentient puppets, involved the Great Dao of Creation and could not be easily forged. If not for the current presence of Golden Immortal Venerables, Qing Ling would have liked to send more puppets to experience the tempering of the Golden Immortal Venerables and see if any further surprises arose.
As the eight Venerables unleashed their attacks, distinct Great Dao powers collided, causing mountains to crack and the void to tremble. All the insectoid beasts within a million-mile radius fled, and the ground shook as if an earthquake were occurring, creating a spectacle of immense power.
Qing Ling, meanwhile, was meticulously recording the techniques of several Golden Immortal Venerables, deducing their potential abilities based on their known methods and the power of their Great Dao, all while strategizing for his next move.
The old woman in green was incredibly formidable. Behind her, a phantom image of a treasure tree materialized, bearing countless leaves. As leaves fell, they formed a river, and as more fell, they coalesced into a lake, and then a sea of leaves. This sea of leaves, rising and falling without end, enveloped the three Golden Immortal Venerables.
Among them was a beautiful middle-aged woman, adorned with red, green, and blue lights. These three lights crisscrossed, fanning away countless spiritual leaves, forming a vacuum within a hundred-zhang radius around her. This woman's divine ability bore a striking resemblance to that of a Grand Unity cultivator from the Nine-Colored Deer tribe, a subordinate of the Qilin tribe on Daoist Island. And this woman happened to be from the Spirit Deer tribe, separated from the Nine-Colored Deer tribe only by a chaotic zone. Qing Ling didn't think much more of it; the Primordial World was unfathomably deep, and he had never underestimated it. Thus, he believed that only by feigning ignorance could he survive longer.
The white-clothed youth also possessed extraordinary divine abilities. Venerable Mo Chan was increasingly struggling, and the young woman had to fight two opponents alone, yet she did not fall into disadvantage. Despite facing five Venerables from Chongshan tribes against three from the Toad tribe, with one almost rendered useless, the Chongshan tribes were gradually gaining the upper hand.
Qing Ling continued his clandestine observation for several more months. This small world had been battered into a state of fragmentation. The life force within the giant white cocoon in the sky grew stronger, but its aura was somewhat chaotic. This was because it was relying on this small world for sustenance, and now that the world was on the verge of destruction, it could no longer provide power. This primordial deity, it seemed, was as unfortunate as Qing Ling.
Qing Ling patiently waited, even controlling his overwhelming killing intent so as not to fixate on Venerable Mo Chan. Golden Immortal Venerables were extremely sensitive, and excessive killing intent, even from tens of thousands of miles away, could be sensed by a premonition. He was like a venomous snake poised to strike, quietly lurking.
Qing Ling began to slowly move towards the location of the small world, his movements extremely slow and subtle, transforming into a three-foot-long snake that burrowed through the earth. As it slithered, it occasionally flicked its forked tongue, its cold, emotionless eyes chilling to the bone.
Twenty thousand miles, ten thousand miles, one thousand miles, one hundred miles, ten miles, one mile. Qing Ling slowed down progressively, finally approaching the small world. His muscles tensed, and he merged seamlessly with the soil. The Venerables, still locked in their battle, would hardly search their immediate surroundings carefully. Their minds were focused on the spiritual treasure in the sky, and they would not notice a "vicious giant python" disguised as a small snake lurking beneath them.
Even after several months, the scene Qing Ling had hoped for had not materialized. Instead, the Toad tribe had gained the upper hand. Only the bare-chested man was unharmed; the others were somewhat weakened and injured. If Qing Ling didn't act soon, these Venerables might just retreat after a while longer. Where would he find another group of helpers then?
Qing Ling reached beneath the Golden Immortal Venerables, hidden deep within the earth. He occasionally extended his tongue to sense the conditions of the eight Venerables in the sky, beginning to concentrate his ultimate strike. He wanted to kill in one blow and then escape, avoiding entanglement.
Mo Chan, the humiliation you inflicted upon me back then; it is time for you to pay with your life!