Chapter Sixty-Three: The Birth of Royalty

“To be able to connect these spore creatures with the centipede tooth in that young proto-ape’s hand—these little fellows truly have a vivid imagination.”

“But just as well, they’ve provided a reasonable explanation for those ghastly pale spore creatures, making everything seem far more natural and logical.”

Fang Zhuowei’s gaze flowed downward, calm as an undisturbed lake, surveying all below. Nothing could escape his watchful eyes.

He resembled an ancient deity from legend: solemn and august, watching quietly over the epic history of his own civilization as it unfolded through the endless river of time.

“Should I make things a bit harder for the proto-ape tribe? Perhaps simulate a rainstorm with a sprinkling can?”

He stroked his chin, a sudden idea flashing through his mind.

Yet the notion was dismissed almost as soon as it arose. Even without added difficulty, the proto-ape tribe already struggled against the ghastly pale spore monsters. If he made it any harder, he’d wipe out the whole tribe with his meddling.

Of course, he didn’t really believe that, left to themselves, the proto-ape civilization would be utterly destroyed by these pallid spore beings.

After all—

Take, for instance, the Li Dynasty, the oldest and most powerful of all nations. Even after all this conflict, its true strength had yet to be revealed.

For example—

Hidden deep within the great mountains of Zhongli, there lay the Eight Sacred Lands—vast, boundless, awe-inspiring.

They were the mightiest, most terrifying powers upon the Black Earth Continent.

…

“I’ll go seek out the emperor of the Li Dynasty and have him bring out more fire seeds.

The eternal night is upon us. Darkness will once again shroud the continent, and our senses will be greatly diminished. If those monsters invade a second time, our position will become exceedingly precarious.”

Zhongli, city gates, within the encampment.

As the firelight flickered, an old man with white hair coughed softly, clasped his hands behind his back, and stood up.

A hundred years ago, strange beings fell from the sky, bringing light and flame to the earth, spreading them among mortals.

Yet, though flame was precious, fire seeds were rare and hard to preserve.

At present, only the Eight Sacred Lands and the royal family of the Li Dynasty possessed any surplus; ordinary households might hold only a few, enough for cooking and lighting, but on the battlefield, these were woefully insufficient.

The eight great sects had declared themselves reclusive a century ago, their gates closed to all but their own disciples. Though the old man was confident in his own power, he did not presume to enter those sacred domains at will.

More than a decade ago, he had crossed paths with the lord of one Sacred Land—a bald man, wild and unrestrained in bearing, strikingly young in appearance, with the look of one barely twenty, yet whose might shook the earth. The old man had fought with all his strength, but could not withstand even three blows, spat blood, and was sent flying. It took him months to recover.

Since then, he had held the Eight Sacred Lands in deep dread.

“Your wisdom is sound, Ancient One. Allow me to accompany you,” a handsome man offered.

“No need, Master Ya. I’ll go alone. If the ruler of the dynasty has any sense, he’ll know what to do. But if at such a crucial moment he dares to play games, I vow to show him what it means to be a fallen king.”

The white-haired elder’s eyes narrowed. With those words, he strode out of the encampment, heading for the city gate.

“Tell your ruler that I need some fire seeds—send them at once.”

Reaching the gate, he gathered his breath and spoke. His voice boomed like a drum, carrying for miles, easily heard even across several mountain ranges.

Such was the power of Daoist energy—even ordinary techniques, when infused with it, gained extraordinary might.

“Fire seeds?”

Atop the city wall, Ming’s brows rose slightly.

“Man Yi, go inform the Ministry of Internal Affairs to bring out a hundred fire seeds.”

After a moment’s thought, Ming turned to a burly, bare-chested man at his side.

“My lord, weren’t you planning to use this opportunity to rid us of those unruly vagabonds and rabble? Why—” The man scratched his head, clearly puzzled.

“Those ghastly pale monsters have not withdrawn. They’re still massing on our borders, eyeing the Li Dynasty hungrily. I need these people to help hold them back. If I offended them now, I’d become the first line of defense myself. Besides, a hundred fire seeds are nothing to me, no cost at all. Why shouldn’t I agree? In fact, I must not only agree, but do even better.”

Ming’s tone was cold. If not for the fact that this burly fellow was his most trusted general, he wouldn’t have bothered to explain so much.

The order was quickly relayed. Soon, a large group in distinctive uniforms carried wooden crates out of the city.

Along with the fire seeds, there were great heaps of food and provisions, all escorted by rows of guards to the white-haired elder.

The food was still steaming, already cooked and ready to eat.

This had been arranged beforehand—those resisting the man-eating beasts would be supplied by the Li Dynasty with food and provisions to ensure steady support from the rear.

Though cultivators could survive without grain after reaching a certain level, not even the old man himself had yet attained such a realm.

“Fair enough.”

Accepting the food and fire seeds, the white-haired elder nodded at last.

Meanwhile—

Deep in the mossy forests of the mountains.

All was shadow and movement as far as the eye could see. Only footsteps and the whistling, bone-chilling wind disturbed the silence.

Suddenly, a harsh roar shattered the stillness.

In the next moment, the underbrush trembled with motion.

A few ghastly pale spore creatures burst through the woods, charging madly toward a nearby lake as if possessed.

These were different from the usual white spore beasts.

First, they were larger, more robust and powerful—fully a third bigger than their kindred. Their limbs bulged with muscle, as if tumors had sprouted beneath the skin; any one of them could have outclassed a world-class bodybuilder with ease.

Second, their short fur was no longer purely white, but rapidly darkening before the naked eye, turning to a deep, inky black.

Moreover, their eyes, once colorless and pure, now gleamed blood-red, the elongated pupils seeming to be soaked in scarlet fluid, spreading outwards in all directions.

Most striking of all—their backs were grotesquely swollen, jutting upward like the belly of a woman ten months with child, eerie and unnatural.