The scorched willow trunk emitted a hazy mist that spread outward like primordial chaos, enveloping the world in silence as if returning to the dawn of creation. Everyone was awestruck—previously, only a single willow branch had glowed, but now even the severed trunk had undergone a transformation, producing such a breathtaking spectacle. They instinctively stepped back.
“Chirp chirp…” A fist-sized furball suddenly darted away with a *whoosh*, squealing in alarm and nearly tumbling into the lake. Its wide eyes stared from a distance as it watched cautiously. The clansmen also retreated, leaving only Little Rascal at the village entrance, gradually swallowed by the mist, his figure blurred and indistinct.
Shi Hao stood motionless, as though standing at the edge of the world, surrounded by swirling chaos. Scenes from his past—once seen but forgotten due to his youth—resurfaced in his subconscious.
*”The vast and eternal heavens, the origin of all beings. The sovereign order was established, and the laws of nature were laid out. The cycles of virtue shift, and destiny is inscribed…”*
A solemn, majestic voice echoed across the heavens and earth, unfolding a mythical scene. A colossal altar towered into the clouds, exuding an ancient and weathered aura, as if it had existed for eons. Carved upon it were intricate patterns—sun and moon, stars and rivers, primordial beasts, ancient ancestors, and divine deities—all awe-inspiring.
The altar was boundless, surpassing mountains in grandeur, wreathed in clouds. Upon it lay the corpses of ancient relics, their blood flowing into the carvings, alongside rare treasures and precious herbs. This was a grand national sacrifice to the heavens!
A golden sun radiated overwhelming power, its brilliance blinding. At its center stood a terrifying figure, illuminating the firmament like an emperor of the heavens, his golden blood qi naturally expanding, creating this divine phenomenon. This was the Human Emperor of an ancient kingdom, ruling over endless lands, now personally presiding over the sacred ceremony with utmost reverence.
Behind him stood a host of imperial elites, their auras oppressive, eyes flashing like lightning. Further back were the great marquises and countless officials—tens of thousands of them, each a formidable figure from different fiefdoms, their combined presence making the heavens tremble.
Beyond them stretched an endless army, so vast that even from atop the altar, one could not see its limits. A single marquis commanded hundreds of millions, and with so many nobles gathered, even a fraction of their forces made for an unimaginable spectacle.
On the other side, the families of important figures also participated, bathed in the sacred radiance of the ceremony. Among them, a young woman cradled an infant in swaddling clothes, the child laughing joyfully and stretching out tiny hands—his large eyes strikingly similar to Shi Hao’s.
Beneath the willow tree, Little Rascal froze, lost in thought.
The sacrificial scene faded, replaced by another vision.
A massive lake, crystal-clear and radiant, brimmed with dense spiritual energy, making it a paradise for cultivation. Rare beasts and divine birds roamed its shores, many of them ancient relics. Such a sacred lake was forbidden to ordinary folk.
In the distance, tens of thousands of armored cavalry stood guard, their spears raised toward the sky, exuding a chilling, martial aura. They remained motionless, securing the perimeter as nobles hunted nearby.
The lake’s edge was a forbidden zone, home to terrifying relics and divine avian descendants. Yet, hundreds of people strolled and hunted there without fear, their blood qi overwhelming, their strength enough to make the earth quake.
A flock of brilliantly plumed raptors, each six to seven meters long, erupted in fury at the intrusion. Their feathers burned like divine flames, especially the avian king—eighteen meters long, wreathed in five-colored radiance, its power making even the distant cavalry shudder.
With a piercing cry, it unleashed a surge of divine light, forcing the army back.
“Hahaha! A magnificent phoenix-hawk, a rare relic with the blood of an ancient divine bird! What a precious medicine—watch me bring it down!” An elder laughed, drawing a massive black bow strung with flood dragon sinew.
With a thunderous *twang*, his arrow shot skyward like a soaring dragon, trailing divine radiance.
*Boom!*
The arrow clashed with the ancient avian descendant, erupting in a storm of energy. The mighty relic was wounded and fled into the clouds.
“Nowhere to run!” The elder fired again, the second arrow streaking like a comet. Blood rained down as the phoenix-hawk plummeted.
“Fifteenth Brother, your archery is godly! Two arrows to fell such a beast—others would need a full battle. This will shake the capital!” an older man praised.
The elder laughed, then personally harvested the bird’s essence, collecting half a bowl of its most precious blood. He strode toward a young couple—a towering man and a beautiful woman holding an infant.
“Here, my precious grandson. Taste this divine blood. You’ll surpass even your father and me.” Dipping a jade chopstick into the blood, he fed the baby.
“Father, Hao’er is so young—is this safe?” the parents fretted.
“Fear not!” The elder insisted, feeding the child several drops. The infant sucked eagerly, eyes bright with laughter, astonishing the onlookers.
“Our lineage thrives in this era, with heroes emerging left and right. This little one may rival Yi’er—perhaps even dominate all lands one day,” an elder mused.
At the mention of “Yi’er,” all eyes turned to a three-year-old boy nearby. His four pupils shimmered with divine light, exuding an unnatural gravity for his age.
In ancient times, double-pupiled ones were saints, even deities. Shi Yi, born with this trait, was destined for greatness, learning swiftly and surpassing his peers.
“Our branch may be marquises, but with imperial blood, we can contend for the throne,” an elder declared.
All eyes returned to Shi Yi, expectations high.
Meanwhile, the swaddled infant cooed, cheeks rosy, eliciting smiles.
“Of course, our little Hao is extraordinary too. He’ll be his elder brother’s right hand—a mighty marquis in his own right,” an elder said.
“Will many of us be sent to the desolate frontiers as lords?” someone joked.
“Those self-proclaimed ‘lords’ in the wilds? Ruling over mere millions? True marquises command billions—their mere retainers could crush such tribes!”
The scene shifted again. The majestic Human Emperor City loomed, vast and divine, its walls like mountain ranges.
“Fifteenth Grandfather slew an ancient relic—a *pixiu*—on the Battlefield of a Hundred Clans! It’s caused chaos across the lands!”
“Rumors say it was a cub, yet stronger than most relics. A pure-blooded adult *pixiu* may enter the battlefield!”
The city trembled at the news.
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