In the mysterious realm beyond the reach of even the highest immortals, where stars burn like incense in the sky and ancient beasts sleep under silver moons, a continent floated in the void — Shenchuandi, the Sacred Origin Land. Among its many divine territories rested the powerful and once-hidden Sheng Clan, nestled deep within an endless forest, surrounded by sacred mountains wreathed in golden mist. Known not only for their discipline but also for their reverence to ancestral legacy, the Sheng Clan was a remnant of a forgotten age.
Within the ancient ancestral hall, glowing softly with celestial sigils, the matriarch of the Sheng Clan, Sheng Lianyu, lay upon a pristine jade bed — a relic passed down from the Age of Origin. Beside her stood her husband, Sheng Tianhai, the clan's formidable patriarch whose mere presence could quiet the winds. Lianyu's face, serene yet noble, was radiant with both pain and awe, for she was about to give birth to a child prophesied by the heavens themselves.
As the child was born, a divine silence swallowed the skies. Then, in the blink of an eye, clouds twisted into spiraling vortexes, thunder cracked through the heavens, and a pillar of golden light pierced down upon the Sheng Clan's sacred grounds. The mountains echoed with ethereal roars, and ancient bells rang without a hand. Every living being across Shenchuandi looked up in awe.
From the skies, a deep, ancient voice resounded — its tone like ten thousand divine decrees sounding as one:
> "Born of the Dual Origin, the One of Creation and Destruction walks the realm!
Bearer of the Divine Spiritual Roots, the will of the heavens shall converge upon this child!
He shall bring forth calamity and salvation alike—
The stars will shift, and all realms shall tremble!"
Far in the darkest corners of the world — within ancient forbidden realms, in caverns buried beneath black oceans, and atop sealed altars left behind by fallen gods — eyes opened. Monsters that had slumbered for eons twitched awake, and demonic existences long erased from history whispered in forgotten tongues. The divine light and heavenly decree had not only blessed a child — it had disturbed those who had been waiting.
> "A child… with Divine Spiritual Roots?" a voice rasped from beneath a tomb of obsidian chains.
> "Infinite power in a vessel of destiny… born under the Creation–Destruction omen…" growled an ancient demon lord, his form bound beneath an erupting volcano.
Old monsters, ancient sects, and fallen gods — all turned their greedy, watchful eyes toward the Sheng Clan, drawn by the child's unparalleled fate.
---
Yet, while distant horrors stirred and ancient powers watched with greedy anticipation, the Sheng Clan turned inward, preparing to face what the heavens had declared.
The festive air was short-lived.
Without warning, the sky above the Sheng stronghold dimmed unnaturally. Ancestral bells rang thrice in succession — a sound not heard since the Age of Calamity. The sacred flames in the ancestral shrine flickered blue. A message from the deep spiritual veins of the clan reached the patriarch: the ancestors were calling.
No horns were blown. No crowds summoned. Only a handful heard the silent call.
From secluded chambers and hidden cultivation groves, the eight top elders of the Sheng Clan emerged — all from the core family line, practitioners of the highest path, bound in blood and fate. Alongside them walked a select few partitioners of the inner sect — chosen for their loyalty and soul oaths — no more than shadows in this meeting.
At the mountain's heart stood a place forbidden to the world: the Hall of Ancestral Summons. Time did not flow within this chamber, and only those recognized by the ancient clan tablets could enter. Its walls were etched with runes of heaven and creation, its air heavy with the presence of slumbering ancestral spirits — guardians unseen.
Inside, under a dome of glowing sigils, the patriarch Sheng Tianhai stood tall.
His voice echoed across the golden floor.
> "The heavens have spoken," Tianhai declared. "And their decree does not come without consequence."
The eight elders stood in silent formation, each representing a branch of the family line. Behind them flickered ancestral spirits, indistinct but vast — watching from beyond.
One elder, his hair pure white and eyes sealed shut, opened his palm to reveal an ancient bone talisman. It pulsed slowly.
> "The Divine Spiritual Roots... Creation and Destruction… the omens are real. This child is the first of his kind in countless cycles."
Another elder, tall and grim, spoke low:
> "Our enemies will feel it too. They will come. Demons. False gods. And worse."
A third elder growled with barely contained fury:
> "Then we strike first. We cannot sit and wait while dark forces gather. Let them taste our wrath—"
> "Silence!" thundered Tianhai, his voice cracking like stormfire. "We are not savages. This is not the time for bloodshed, but for wisdom."
But tension rippled through the sacred hall. The elders argued — some urging caution, others demanding war.
Suddenly, the torches lining the walls flickered to black. The air turned cold.
Then — a voice. Deep, ancient, and unrelenting.
It did not come from a throat, but from the void itself.
> "If they dare step into our sacred soil… they die."
The elders fell still. Even Tianhai's breath paused.
The shadows along the wall twisted, taking a vague shape — vast, robed, and faceless.
> "Let the beasts watch. Let the devils hunger.
But they will find no feast here."
With that, the presence faded, leaving behind only the burning silence of those who had just glimpsed something far older than time.
The decision had been made — not by vote, but by decree older than blood.
> Let them come.
> Author's Note:
Thanks for reading this chapter! 😊
If you enjoyed it, or if you have any thoughts about the story, please leave a comment below.
Your feedback helps me improve and gives me motivation to keep writing.
💬 Just scroll down and write your comment — even a short one means a lot!
See you in the next chapter!