Chapter One: The Dawn of Civilization

“El represents the past, but does he embody the future?”
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“Today, because of your leadership, we fight side by side. Tomorrow, the blood shed by warriors will be for our shared future.”
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“The meaning of sacrifice lies in supreme glory.”
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“The fleet is ready and awaits your command, High Priest.”
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“I know how to face the impending darkness. You must trust me.”
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“I... I can hear... his... voice.”
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“He has corrupted Kara!”
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“No. This body—and all the starborn—belong to me!”
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“I will end this rotten cycle!”
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“Fight for El!”
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Countless memories intertwined within Fang Bai’s mind, making his already chaotic thoughts even harder to clarify. Thus, he once again succumbed to darkness.

Five million years later, with the ringing of a bright bell, Fang Bai awoke from his coma. By now, he had finally and completely absorbed the knowledge and memories residing in his mind.

“To think that just digesting those memories took as long as the entire evolutionary history of humanity in my previous life.” With a wave, Fang Bai summoned the small bell hovering above his head, sighing softly.

In his previous life, he had been nothing more than an ordinary mortal. During a meteor shower, he made a wish to escape mediocrity, was struck by lightning, and then found himself in this world.

Upon his arrival, Fang Bai was no longer an ordinary man. He had arrived at the very dawn of this universe, and as his soul crossed the barrier between worlds, it unexpectedly absorbed the laws of this realm. Thus, he was honored to become a primordial deity of this cosmos. Yet, due to the elevation of his soul and the uniqueness of his divine role, he remained in slumber.

Fang Bai gently traced the inscriptions on the bell, thoughtful. Of all he had gained in these five million years, aside from the vast expanse of memories, this small bell was his greatest treasure.

He did not know what material the bell was made of, but it had brought him into this new world. From his memories, he had learned that it was this very bell that spared the soul of El from utter corruption in his previous life, allowing it to shatter the wall between worlds and escape to freedom.

Indeed, Fang Bai could not help but marvel at his luck: whether it was acquiring the power and memories of El’s star soul or gaining the laws of this world through transmigration, missing any one step would have left him forever dormant.

The only regret was that, because the power of El’s star soul had shielded him from being assimilated by the world’s laws—and instead, merged with them—his true name from now on would be El, not Fang Bai.

Yet this was no great loss. El mused to himself: all things from the past were now but memories. Besides, he was no longer simply Fang Bai, nor merely El, but a fusion of both. A change of name could not alter his essence.

As soon as he accepted this identity, the golden mist surrounding him churned and surged, as if celebrating the birth of a new god.

El smiled faintly, calming the swirling mist. At this moment, he resided within the planet’s inner world, in a layer between the realities of the universe. The mist around him was the very manifestation of his power. Now that he had accepted himself, all his surrounding strength rejoiced for their master.

“Now, it’s time to awaken my planet,” El said, slipping the little bell into his sleeve. As a primordial deity, he should by all rights be unclothed, but old habits die hard—he had once been Fang Bai, after all.

Speaking of planetary revival: since El, as the star soul, had never awakened, the other primordial deities had sealed off the entire star system to protect their slumbering brother, moving it to the Andromeda Galaxy where no life could arise. Thus, El’s planet was barren, showing no signs of life.

At El’s command, the entire planet began to tremble. Its terrain shifted according to his will, as if he were wielding the terrain editor of a game from his previous life, boldly reshaping the land.

“One continent will suffice. Four seas around it, a towering mountain at the center, and a lake beneath the mountain...” El muttered as he drew energy from the cosmos, transforming it into matter.

This transformation continued for years. What would have taken hundreds of millions of years for a planet to reach habitability was achieved by El in a handful of seasons.

Surveying the myriad conditions of the planet, El nodded with satisfaction. “Now, all that’s missing is life.” He stroked his chin, unable to suppress a flicker of joy at the world before him.

But years of exerting his powers had left him, newly awakened, somewhat weary. Sensing the approach of sleep, El scattered the seeds of life across every corner of the planet, then gathered the golden currents of energy into his arms.

“May strong and wise beings, worthy of my aesthetic, be born here,” he thought, drifting into slumber, full of hope for the unknown lives to come.

Spring passed and autumn came; time flowed on. In the blink of an eye, millions of years had gone by. The once desolate world now teemed with vitality. (In memory of his previous life, the planet’s rotation and revolution were made to mirror Earth’s.)

All manner of strange plants and animals lived together on the continent. The sky, the land, and the seas thrummed with life.

On a radiant day, a group of bipedal, humanoid beings approached the central lake. Each stood taller than two meters, with thick neural tendrils sprouting from the back of their heads. Their skin was pale and tough, their faces and joints adorned with bony protrusions. Their eyes glowed faintly, their bodies were hairless, their limbs had reverse joints, and each foot bore four toes.

As they neared the water’s edge, the leader suddenly halted, and the rest followed suit. Then, with seamless coordination, they hurled their wooden spears into a nearby thicket.

A beast’s anguished cry rang out—a quadrupedal, dolphin-like creature emerged, wounded. The leader had spotted it hiding in the brush. These humanoids possessed a psychic link, enabling them to communicate wordlessly—a trait that greatly enhanced their hunting prowess.

The leader calmly finished off the beast and collected its blood, while another swiftly skinned it and gathered its teeth, bones, and other hard parts. The entire impromptu hunt proceeded in silence and perfect order.

After processing their unexpected prey, the group pressed on. They were the leaders of a nomadic tribe, seeking a new home for their people after a natural disaster had rendered their former settlement untenable.

At last, they reached the lakeshore. The sight before them was overwhelming: an endless expanse of water, a mountain soaring into the clouds, broad plains beside the lake—all teeming with countless living creatures.

A gentle breeze brushed the lake, bringing a moist fragrance and rousing the group from their reverie. Hastily, they split up—some to return to the tribe with news, others to remain and keep their bearings.

Gazing at the landscape, those who stayed behind fell into thoughtful silence. When the entire tribe finally arrived, the high priest led everyone in a ritual of prostration toward the mountain, proclaiming this a land blessed by the gods, the mountain their dwelling place. Settling here, they would receive divine favor. Thus, a wandering tribe vanished from the land, replaced by the God-Blessed Tribe.

With the abundant resources of Sky-Pillar Mountain and Sunset Lake, the God-Blessed Tribe flourished, soon growing from a small band of a hundred to a thriving community of over ten thousand. Their reputation drew many other tribes seeking alliance, quickly making them the dominant power of the land. So it was, thousands of years passed since their arrival in the sacred land.

Meanwhile, as the God-Blessed Tribe grew in strength, another tribe—known as the Blood Tribe—rose in the west. Through the enslavement and slaughter of other tribes, they became rulers of the western continent.

One day, their leader received word of the God-Blessed Tribe at the continent’s center. At first, the Blood Tribe’s chief, Fang, was stunned to learn that another great tribe existed besides his own. But soon, Fang issued a command to the entire Blood Tribe: prepare for battle. Without hesitation, he launched a sudden assault on the God-Blessed Tribe.

The first to suffer were the small tribes on the border of the God-Blessed domain. Taken by surprise, they fell swiftly. The Blood Tribe, long practiced in conquering such tribes, knew exactly how to subdue them.

In mere months, several tribes were wiped out, and no news escaped. It was only when traders from the God-Blessed Tribe arrived that the change of allegiance was discovered. The Blood Tribe, unaccustomed to dealing with merchants, had not anticipated their arrival, and so the news was carried back.

The God-Blessed Tribe was shaken to its core—shocked by the Blood Tribe’s sudden attack, and terrified by their strength. The high priest, with a mental command, snapped the tribe’s chief out of panic. He immediately dispatched envoys to other tribes to call for an alliance and began mustering his own strength, preparing to unite all tribes against the Blood Tribe.

Realizing their movements had been exposed, the Blood Tribe abandoned any pretense of stealth, launching an even fiercer offensive in hopes of destroying the God-Blessed Tribe in one blow.

Thus began the epic, bloody conflict between the God-Blessed and Blood Tribes—a war of such magnitude and devastation that it would be remembered by posterity as the War of the Ages.