Chapter Seventy-Six: Heaven Turns a Blind Eye

The elderly man with white hair spat blood, his body on the verge of collapse, covered in countless wounds both large and small. Though none were fatal, their sheer number was overwhelming; many gashes had flesh visibly turned outward. The vitality of these monsters had surpassed all his expectations. He had already estimated their strength as generously as possible, only to realize he had still underestimated them in the end.

This was, without a doubt, a race with limitless potential.

The air was suffused with a stifling, oppressive atmosphere.

The ultimate expression of the Ocean Shifting Secret Art was his sole trump card, and the most powerful one at that.

He could shift the seas of the Nine Provinces and wipe out the lands beneath heaven.

As he had envisioned, the raging floodwaters surged across the earth, monstrous waves becoming graves for the living, battering dust and soil, finally washing away and burying all wickedness.

But what he never anticipated—

These monsters, at the very last moment, suddenly gained the ability to breathe underwater, becoming amphibious, rendering his mighty flood instantly laughable.

Such rapid evolution filled the old man with both despair and shock.

He roared in fury, demanding to know where these monsters had emerged from, why they had not appeared sooner, and why they chose this moment to reveal themselves.

Most importantly: why must they feed upon his ancient ape kin?

As one of the era’s supreme cultivators, he knew better than anyone how terrifying the monsters' powers of evolution were. It was no exaggeration to call this a gift favored by the heavens; they needed no cultivation, only to wait until adulthood or the right conditions, and they would automatically gain powerful, fearsome abilities.

Why had his ancient ape race never possessed such abilities?

Heaven is blind, heaven is blind!

The old man cried out in grief.

He had endured countless years of hardship and relentless cultivation, never resting day or night, finally reaching the pinnacle only through unimaginable toil—yet even so, he could not alter the outcome.

“This is not heaven’s blindness. I am fair to every race. Though they wield unparalleled evolutionary speed, your ancient ape clan also possesses infinite future potential in the Way. If the Way is pursued to its utmost, all evolutionary speeds are but mist; their advantages are nothing more than internal mechanisms, but you possess a far vaster sky!”

Outside the small world of the fish tank, Fang Zhuowei mused.

Moreover, the old man’s words were not entirely accurate. The ancient ape race was not incapable of evolution; it simply evolved more slowly than these pale spores and cultivated a different path.

Two entirely distinct directions of evolution—how could they be compared?

From the perspective of life, evolution is chemical: amino acids become polypeptides, polypeptides become proteins, bases become nucleic acids, and finally, life emerges. Once life begins, chemical evolution recedes, and biological evolution takes over.

Any living being that continues to reproduce will evolve ceaselessly. The ancient ape clan still had room for evolution; however, due to their unique bloodline, their evolution was not expressed directly in themselves, but through external means.

Tools are external. The Way is external.

Mastery of the external does not necessarily mean inferiority to the internal.

A guttural, yet piercing roar echoed through the air.

“That sound!” The old man’s brows arched. He recognized it; it was the same voice that had sounded amidst the smoke before.

Though somewhat muffled, the sound carried an indescribable authority.

And, compared to the previous time, it was undeniably clearer.

On the chaotic battlefield, as this roar sounded, all the pale spores turned pale, hastily retreating to both sides...

As the ordinary pale monsters withdrew from the gates, several enormous figures bearing ancient wings slowly emerged, entering the old man's view.

These figures were massive and fierce, emanating a formidable aura.

Especially the leader—its body was nearly fully covered in black fur, radiating a terrifying, overwhelming presence. Its eyes were no longer pale, but burning with dazzling, scarlet points.

These creatures were none other than the spores that had succeeded in breaking through to the second stage of evolution.

“You... are the king!” The old man’s eyes widened, fixed on the behemoth before him, his face shocked and dumbfounded as the words of the handsome youth echoed in his mind.

The Sphinx king at the forefront let out a low growl.

It did not understand the old man’s words. It appeared simply because the bloodied prey before it was worthy of its own consumption.

The spore creatures released from the old man’s control—the floodwaters, once gathered in one place, were now like a punctured balloon, quickly dispersing in all directions.

In mere moments, the surging waters before Zhongli’s capital visibly receded.

The dark earth was exposed again, revealing the countless drowned pale monsters’ corpses.

The scene was utterly shocking.

The countless corpses of monsters lay scattered across the blackened ground, forming a stark contrast of black and white.

Black to the extreme, like an abyss.

White so oppressive, like a hymn.

“Elder, we’re here to save you!” As the floodwaters faded, the hidden cultivators rushed out. Seeing the old man beset by a dozen monsters, they shouted loudly.

They admired the old man’s heroic spirit, his patriotism and self-sacrifice, and were willing to risk their own lives to save him.

“Don’t come! Quickly, run... run...” The old man, fighting to the last, had realized—they had lost.

He had given everything, used the ultimate Ocean Shifting Secret at the cost of physical collapse, yet managed to kill only the weakest, the lowliest members of this monstrous race.

These lowest ranks, though numerous, were meaningless however many died.

Even if he slaughtered every pale monster and buried them beneath the earth with his flood, it would change nothing.

As long as those black-furred monsters survived, they were destined not to succeed.

Those who had evolved to bear black fur had reached a new phase of life—truly terrifying.

“By the way, Aunt San, did you hear anything strange last night?” Fang Zhuowei asked.

He thought it best to check; if not, he’d offer a warning, just in case.

“Strange sounds? Now that you mention it, yes, indeed...” Tang Jinhua wrung a few clothes, recalled carefully, and nodded.