Chapter Twenty-Four: The Coming of Eternal Night

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"The Divine Sword, the Millstone, and the Imperial Armor—these three objects each represent one of the Three Treasures of Power: Might, Influence, and Benevolence.

The Divine Sword stands for the power to kill, the Millstone for population, and the Imperial Armor for impregnable defense. Any one of these alone would be enough to send shockwaves across the entire Black Earth Continent.

But this is still far from enough. I need something more, something fiercer..."

Ding.

Payment completed.

Order placed successfully.

Fang Zhuowei raised an eyebrow but did not immediately exit the online marketplace. Instead, he purchased a vast array of "martial arts manuals."

He didn't care whether they were genuine or fake; as long as they were available, he bought them. In addition to the most popular manuals like the Muscle-Tendon Changing Classic and the Marrow-Cleansing Classic, he also bought a stack of others—Dragon Subduing Palms, the Ripple Step, the Great Shifting of Heaven and Earth—any manual with a name, famous or obscure, if he saw it, he bought it.

Besides these common ones, he also picked up classics such as the Dao De Jing, the Taishang Sensitivity Classic, the Yellow Emperor’s Inner Canon, and the Amitabha Sutra.

This heap of "martial arts manuals" cost him nearly five hundred yuan.

Although it was quite a sum, Fang Zhuowei didn’t feel the slightest pang of regret. First, ever since becoming a Creator, his mindset and vision had undergone an unprecedented elevation; money no longer held the same meaning for him as before. Second, he had long planned to buy these things.

The bodies of the ancient apes were inherently frail, as fragile as eggs compared to the primordial races of the distant past. For those ancient races, the burning of divine blood was akin to a walk at death’s door; for the ancient apes, it was certain death, with not even a sliver of hope for survival.

Clearly, burning divine blood was not suitable for the ancient apes.

Yet Fang Zhuowei did not want the evolutionary history of the ape civilization to be just a simplified version of Earth's own. He had to place his hopes elsewhere, and these assorted martial arts manuals were his initial experiment.

The Aquarium World.

The Black Earth Continent.

Year fifty-two after the formation of tribal civilization.

The population of ancient apes once again exploded in a frenzy. In less than fifty years, their numbers swelled by nearly three million, reaching a rather astonishing total.

In these decades, the Black Earth Continent experienced a relatively brief period of peace. Though wars still broke out, they were rare and not particularly large in scale.

During this era, not only did the number of ancient apes grow explosively, but their culture also made remarkable progress.

As their body hair grew sparser and their skin was increasingly exposed, these once brash and unrefined apes gradually learned the differences between male and female, and developed a sense of modesty.

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They began picking moss leaves, threading them together with moss stems to make crude coverings for their most exposed parts.

Some even decorated these coverings with flowers from various fruits and vegetables.

Although, to Fang Zhuowei, these coverings made little difference—whether worn or not—it must be said, the flowers did look rather flamboyant.

On this day.

In the southeastern corner of Mount Daci,

A great and tumultuous battle erupted.

It was a tribe with a notably large population.

An internal conflict had broken out.

Two factions clashed.

On one side was the lineage of the original tribal chief; on the other, the challengers.

The original chief was named Pang. He had ruled the tribe for nearly thirty years. His stature was massive, a full head taller than most ancient apes. Though he was entering his twilight years, he remained imposing and awe-inspiring. Simply standing there, he radiated an aura of dominance. Even in old age, ordinary ancient apes were no match for him.

The leader of the challengers, however, was a rather small and thin ancient ape named Chi.

The battle raged for nearly two full days, fiercely and brutally. It was no longer a simple contest—many tribe members, many loved ones, fell on both sides.

In the end,

Chi struck at dawn on the third day, killing Pang at the foot of Mount Daci.

Blood stained the foot of the mountain and soaked Chi’s entire body.

This battle left the neighboring tribal chiefs shocked and incredulous.

In their eyes, Pang, though no longer in his prime, still possessed the strength to rule and the authority to suppress his people. How could such a formidable figure be killed by someone who barely reached his waist?

They could not understand it, but none dared to act rashly.

They had seen the battle with their own eyes; Pang’s gruesome death was seared into their minds.

This small, frail-looking ancient ape, who seemed so weak that a mere slap could send him flying, was in truth ferociously tenacious, defying all expectations for his age and size.

“It’s that little one!”

Fang Zhuowei’s eyes sparkled, drawn by the fight, as he looked at Chi again and again, recollecting the memory.

This little fellow was none other than the reckless young ape from years ago, the one who had his tooth broken by a seed and his throat choked by a wheat husk.

After so many years, he had entered his declining years. The golden fur he once flaunted had thinned dramatically after a lifetime of toil.

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At his waist hung a carefully woven covering made of moss leaves, adorned with a ring of bright orange cucumber flowers, their rich hues glimmering faintly in the dim light...

To be honest, even Fang Zhuowei had never expected this little one to seize power in his twilight years—and, most astonishing, to actually succeed.

...

Year sixty of tribal civilization.

Chi had reached the venerable age of nearly sixty-eight—a remarkable lifespan among all ancient apes.

At sixty-eight, Chi was frailer than ever: his hair and beard snowy white, his posture stooped, breathing labored, eyes dim, and skin loose and wrinkled.

All the ancient apes believed his final days were at hand.

A sense of sorrow pervaded the entire tribe.

During his seven-year reign, Chi governed with diligence and wisdom. He annexed several nearby tribes, greatly strengthening his own and increasing its grain stores. In the eyes of his people, Chi was a more capable leader than Pang.

But no matter how brilliant a ruler, the curtain must fall someday.

On this day.

Before the throne.

Chi dismissed all his attendants and, from a corner, retrieved a small object, no larger than a palm.

It was a pumpkin leaf, carefully wrapped.

His hands trembled as he opened it, revealing an object as crimson as fresh blood.

A plump, crystal-clear goji berry.

Before the coming of the Long Night,

Chi began a second life—not only surviving, but growing younger and stronger.

When the news spread, all the tribes were stunned.

Three days later,

Word spread that Chi possessed the Elixir of Immortality.

In an instant,

The Black Earth Continent was thrown into an uproar.