Iva the Ferryman wandered the earth in confusion, observing this world and the snake people upon it.

The herding tribes, the fishing islanders, the city-state dwellers – all were subjects of his observation.

Having never interacted with living beings outside God’s realm, he yearned to experience the power of emotions and desire, yet he felt deeply uncomfortable under others’ gazes.

Like humans drawn to the light of fire, yet flinching from its heat the moment they reach out.

He walked the earth in solitude.

He pushed aside jungle leaves, standing upon hillsides to gaze into the distance.

For a long moment, he stood there motionless, suddenly unsure where to go.

Iva asked himself: “How can I fulfill my mission?”

His heart yearned to mingle with the crowds and experience what he longed to understand, yet deep within he feared contact with others, feeling those connections were incompatible with his nature. The solitary existence of piloting his boat through the star sea and Dream Realm had become his comfort.

Not fully understanding how to fulfill God’s mission, he could only wander and observe.

Through the distance, Iva spotted two snake people emerging below the hillside. Their hands intertwined as they made their way up the slope, their tails swaying in harmony while laughter filled the air between them.

The woman carried a basket woven from vines, a common household item among snake people villages and tribes, who fashioned various implements from woven vines.

Their happiness radiated so strongly that Iva could sense it from where he stood.

Iva descended the hillside, materializing before the pair.

Though Iva’s appearance and form seemed out of place among snake people, and his arrival startlingly sudden, the young couple gazed at him without fear.

They sensed no malice from him.

They studied Iva in his dark silver robes, wondering if he might be some noble from elsewhere. Low bushes obscured his lower half, hiding that he had no tail.

The young man asked him: “Who are you?”

Instead of answering, Iva asked them: “Why are you so happy?”

The woman found Iva’s question strange: “Because we’re together.”

Iva asked: “Being together makes you happy?”

The woman replied: “Of course.”

Iva lowered his head, gazing at the woman’s pupils with those eyes of his: “I read your hearts, but… why do I not feel happiness?”

“Why is that?”

During his countless journeys ferrying through the star sea, he had always wondered if meeting living people might help him understand their emotions and happiness.

Reality proved far different from his imagination.

The joys and sorrows of different people were not the same. He could not obtain the happiness he sought by reading others’ hearts, nor could he understand why two people together could be so happy.

“Why?”

“Why do you need to ask such a question?”

The snake people couple looked at Iva as if he were a fool or madman.

Not finding the answer he sought, Iva turned and left.

The man whispered, pointing to his head: “I wonder if something’s wrong up here!”

The woman watched Iva’s retreating form, her eyes widening as she noticed his lack of tail.

“He has no tail – perhaps he’s gone mad after having it cut off.”

Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper as she shared a rumor: “I’ve heard that when temple servants commit serious crimes, they have part of their tail cut off. Could he be a criminal cast out from some temple?”

They quietly speculated about Iva’s origins, never imagining he was no snake person at all, but a demigod who had descended from God’s realm.

Feeling dejected, Iva continued along the road into the distance.

Iva came upon another village, with vast cultivated fields outside growing carefully tended fern balls.

The neat, smooth fields gave off a sense of hope.

A group of snake children slithered along the edge of the fields, their chase bringing them to a small river.

Trees lined both banks, with vines hanging from a thick tree. The children would grab the vines and swing across from one side to the other.

A simple action, but for the children it was full of courage, adventure, and excitement.

It held childhood’s innocence and joy.

One by one the children swung across the river, until only a single child remained on the far bank.

The last child looked fearfully at the river below, unable to embark on the adventurous journey.

The other children stood on the opposite bank watching, calling out loudly.

“Come on over!”

“It’s fine, really easy!”

“Just grab it and close your eyes – you’ll be across in no time!”

But the last child couldn’t take that step. The children on the far bank gradually grew impatient, their encouragement turning to mockery.

“Coward.”

“Let’s not wait for him anymore.”

Then they turned away one by one.

The child could only stand on his bank watching his companions leave, setting off on new journeys and adventures while he remained frozen in place.

A figure appeared behind the child, silently observing as joy transformed into loss across the young face.

Iva suddenly recalled what God Yinsai had told him before leaving: “Plant wishes in mortal hearts.”

He also remembered what the ancient spirits had done, riding their balloons down to the mortal realm to grant the wishes in children’s hearts.

They were God Yinsai’s beloved ones, representatives of all beauty in the world.

The child sensed movement behind him and turned to look at Iva.

“Who are you?”

Iva stepped forward and asked him.

“Do you know about wish-granting spirits?”

The child looked bewildered, shaking his head.

A hand emerged from Iva’s robe – one formed of small intertwined vines, strange yet wondrous.

From the vine-woven fingertips, a beautiful Sun Cup slowly grew forth.

The stem twisted upward under seemingly magical power, the golden cup gradually unfurling.

The Sun Cup Flower Sea was the most beautiful place Iva had ever seen, and the spirits were born from within it. Now Iva used this method to share the beauty he knew with the child.

“This is a flower called the Sun Cup.”

“And spirits are beings as beautiful as this flower.”

“They can…”

“Ah!” The child let out a scream.

Without even listening to the end, the child was frightened by Iva’s strange arms and the odd form visible beneath his robes, turning to flee.

“Monster!”

Iva stood bent forward, still holding the flower in the pose of wanting to give it to the child.

But the child never looked back.

Watching the child flee in terror, Iva grew even more confused.

He didn’t understand why the child ran, why they feared him.

This was how spirits granted mortals’ wishes, earning endless praise and admiration!

Those children had all loved them so much.

He could only stand holding the golden flower, quietly speaking the words he hadn’t finished.

“The spirits’ power can grant your wishes. When you make a wish upon this flower, it can help you cross mountains and seas in pursuit of what you desire.”

With those words spoken, he regretfully put away the Sun Cup and turned to continue his journey.

The sound of shouting soon erupted from the village as a large group of armed adult snake people came running forth.

“Where is it?”

“Where’s the man-eating monster?”

“Which way did it go?”

The adults searched everywhere with weapons ready, looking for traces of the monster, but ultimately found nothing.

Instead of leaving behind a beautiful, moving legend, Iva had created a terrifying tale that would frighten every child in the area.

Even hundreds and thousands of years later, the locals still whispered of a tall monster who stalked the wilderness wearing silver clothes, with a human head but a body made of trees.

They said he lurked in the forests, seeking out children who wandered alone, to catch and devour them.

They said he would present children with strange golden plants. Once a child accepted his gift, they would fall forever under the monster’s control…

Meanwhile, in the City of Fire Protection.

The Divine Blessed King Alpens returned to the city in his chariot pulled by Land Dragons, soldiers flanking him on both sides.

His chariot halted before the city gates as he watched them slowly open.

Alpens admired this city he had rebuilt, watching as his view revealed the prosperous streets and thoroughfares within.

His eyes traced the river flowing away from the city, his mind conjuring images of his realm.

In his mind, a map unfurled showing city after city across his realm.

Now his Suinhor City-State Alliance boasted over a million inhabitants across more than twenty cities.

His people sustained themselves through farming while also raising beasts. They had mastered pottery firing and bronze smelting.

They possessed their own epic poetry and written language, their own legal code and city-state system.

In the eyes of the world, Alpens stood as a leader of unmatched strength and wisdom, his strategic mind renowned throughout the lands.

Sacred knowledge flowed through him, granting him communion with the divine. Through this power, he had accomplished miracle after miracle, becoming not just the first king, but one destined to be remembered as the greatest.

Alpens drove his chariot into the street while crowds cheered loudly on both sides, everyone prostrating themselves before him.

He guided his chariot to the center of the street where a man waited to perform.

The man stood in the street, singing poetry he had written praising the great Divine Blessed King Alpens.

This was a tribute to Alpens, a performance prepared in advance.

“King Alpens!”

The opening burst forth with passionate singing, accompanied by a flowing melody.

The poet pressed his hand to his chest, his expression growing rich with emotion.

“He descended to the Blood Kingdom in the deep sea depths, he is the Divine Blessed King, knower of all worldly secrets.”

“He knows the height of the Mountain of Life’s Origin, he knows the mysteries of the Mother of Life’s temple.”

“Before God he gained a hero’s form, with spear and bow he established Suinhor.”

“He…”

The snake people had always excelled at singing and dancing. Their pursuit of melody and dance far surpassed the former Trilobite people. Their poetry had to not only be readable but singable as well.

Music served three sacred purposes for their people: as offerings to the gods, as praise for their heroes, and as vessels for preserving their understanding of the world.

Alpens listened to the poet’s verses and spoke with satisfaction.

“Very good.”

“Carve these verses and place them before my palace.”

The singer bowed deeply as Alpens drove past in his Land Dragon chariot.

The street once again erupted in thunderous sound.

Alpens had reached the pinnacle of life, achieving the glory and honor he had dreamed of in his youth. His name would be remembered by future generations.

As long as the snake people existed, he would never be forgotten.

Alpens returned to his palace where several officials approached to report on the state of the alliance.

The Royal Court Minister, being very familiar with Alpens, asked him directly.

“King Alpens.”

“How was it?”

Alpens had left the City of Fire Protection to inspect several cities in the west. After many years of recovery, the Suinhor City-State Alliance had indeed changed from before, but the northwestern herding tribes had also grown increasingly powerful.

What surprised Alpens most was how quickly the bow and arrow he had invented had spread among the herding tribes.

They used these weapons to fight each other and hunt beasts.

They had gradually forgotten their past wounds, thinking only of the Suinhor City-State’s prosperity.

Though King Alpens of the Suinhor City-State was incredibly powerful, as raiders they only wished to plunder and flee, not face Alpens in direct battle.

The situation had grown more dire with each passing day as the herding tribes gathered in greater numbers. Their movements suggested a massive invasion force was forming, ready to strike at any moment.

During this inspection tour, Alpens had even fought a battle with an advance party of invaders, emerging victorious as expected.

But Alpens knew greater conflicts lay ahead.

Alpens shared what he had discovered with the minister: “Several herding tribes in the northwest are growing restless again. We’ll likely be at war soon.”

“Has anything happened within the city-state?”

The minister replied: “There are rumors in Sains City and several other cities in the southeast saying you have grown old. It seems someone is deliberately spreading these tales. I’ve sent people to investigate the situation.”

Alpens showed no concern: “Just a bunch of clowns.”

Yet a close look revealed how time had changed him from his prime years.

His chin was covered in thick, tangled beard that gave him a majestic, imposing appearance.

Yet silver threads now ran through his hair, and wrinkles creased the corners of his eyes.

Age crept upon him inevitably. Though he still possessed the power granted by divine blood, that blood had never truly belonged to him. He felt his mortal body slowly declining under time’s relentless march.

The so-called divine blessing and divine power.

All of it was borrowed strength.

Without these, he was merely an ordinary mortal.

The minister nodded and prepared to leave Alpens in peace.

“You must be tired, my king. I’ll take my leave. Please rest early!”

Alpens removed his armor and entered his chambers.

He spent some time reading books made of beast hide. As darkness fell, servants came to light bronze lamps filled with animal fat oil.

As night settled into silence, Alpens stretched lazily.

He rose from his seat, the poet’s melody still echoing in his mind. Pride swelled within him as he remembered the adoring faces of his people.

The tune slipped from his lips unbidden.

“King Al-pens…”

His eyes shone with the satisfaction of a man who had achieved all his dreams as sleep began to claim him.

Yet barely had consciousness faded when Alpens felt himself being summoned away from the earth, falling toward some unknown place.

It was a realm of darkness, but he could feel the darkness undulating.

Rhythmic sounds echoed through the darkness.

This was the deep sea.

At first Alpens remained in a dreamy haze, but when a lighthouse radiating red light appeared in the distance, his mind snapped to perfect clarity.

Recognition flooded through him – this was no dream, but the sacred realm he had visited long ago.

Though eighty years had passed since his last visit, every detail of this place remained vivid in his memory.

He floated down through the darkness, finally landing before the lighthouse.

He raised his head to look upon this ancient, mysterious underwater city and its temple.

“The Blood Kingdom of the Deep Sea.”

“I never expected to return here.”

His feet carried him forward with certainty, each feature of this place familiar to him – its architectural style, mysterious writing, and the strange creations that still defied mortal understanding.

His own chariot had been modeled after one of these peculiar artifacts. Now chariots had become essential in city-state warfare and a symbol of both Alpens and the Suinhor City-State.

His steps led him naturally to the Temple of Truth.

The deity still sat upon her throne of flesh and blood, her bare feet resting on the fleshy carpet, cradling a blood-red egg-like object in her arms.

Even sitting motionless and silent, she emanated such pressure that Alpens could not raise his head.

The power and bloodline within Alpens instinctively showed reverence and submission before this Queen of the Most Ancient Race.

“Great Blood Progenitor, Scarlet Witch, Queen of the Most Ancient Race.”

“Your blessed one answers your summons.”

Alpens recited the Blood Progenitor’s full divine names, showing his devotion and reverence.

Over these years he had indeed accomplished much for his deity.

Temples had been built in every city of the Suinhor City-State. Within these temples, they enshrined not only the Mother of Life as the primary deity, but also statues of the Blood Progenitor, both receiving offerings and worship from all snake people.

The Queen of the Most Ancient Race fixed her gaze upon Alpens while blood-red power swirled around her throne. Through her divine sight, she saw how his mortal form had deteriorated beyond recognition. Only his symbiotic connection with the Life Ability Bearer allowed his body to maintain even basic functions.

Vivien would have marveled at how much time had passed, but the Blood Progenitor now perceived a mortal lifetime as merely the blink of an eye, watching each life journey from birth to its inevitable end.

She had truly embraced the perspective of divinity, seeing the world as only an immortal could.

“The time approaches.”

“Do you remember our contract?”

Alpens suddenly raised his head, understanding exactly what she meant.

His life would soon reach its end. According to their contract, his body would return to the divine, becoming one with the deep sea.

Just moments ago he had basked in his own glory and brilliance, yet in an instant the deity informed him his days were numbered.

The stark reality shattered his reverie, leaving him staring at the deity in bewilderment.

Finally accepting the inevitable truth that no mortal could escape death, he bowed his head.

“I understand, Great Deity,” he whispered with reverence.

The Blood Progenitor simply nodded, then waved her hand to dismiss Alpens.

She could have chosen not to remind him. When his lifespan reached its end, his form would naturally return to her realm.

But Alpens had shown great devotion over these years, and she admired him as a ruler. She wished for him to put everything in order before death, hoping the Suinhor he had founded would endure.

Upon her throne of flesh, the deity cradled the Seed of the Trilobite.

She gently stroked the seed, seeming to sense its excited trembling.

The first Trilobite person would soon return, and they all anticipated this moment deeply.

“Come back!”

“The most ancient race and all things of old.”

In the royal palace of the City of Fire Protection.

Alpens awakened from his dream, lying still as he opened his eyes.

After long contemplation, he finally sat up.

Alpens touched the armband on his arm, the Proof of Blood Kinship, all of it granted by the deity.

Now the deity would reclaim his power.

But the Suinhor City-State he had founded and everything he had built still needed to continue.

His life would soon end, but this nation had only just begun.

“Time to prepare for what must come,” he murmured softly.

In the palace gardens, a handsome young man drew back his bow.

“Thunk.”

The arrow struck the target’s center with perfect accuracy, producing a sharp sound of impact.

He drew his bow again, preparing for another shot.

His friend, who was also the palace guard captain, entered the garden to find him, saying: “The king wishes to see you.”

Smerkel asked him: “Father is looking for me?”

“Is something urgent?”

The guard captain’s manner was unusually serious and solemn, lacking his usual casual demeanor.

“The king has discussed with the minister and the Oath-Takers about having you lead troops against the herding tribes preparing to raid southward.”

The guard captain’s voice grew softer.

“The king may be preparing to pass the throne to you. You must handle this carefully, Your Highness.”

King Alpens had aged rapidly in recent years. Not only did people within the city-state know this, but even the herding tribes had learned of it.

Smerkel was the prince of Suinhor and the only heir.

Perhaps due to physical abnormalities, producing an heir had been extremely difficult.

Only twenty years ago, after Alpens made offerings and prayers to the deity, did divine grace finally descend.

Alpens at last produced his own heir.

Smerkel meant “one with a mission,” which also carried the meaning of duty and responsibility.

His birth held special significance. He had been born amid universal attention and expectation.

He was King Alpens’s son, destined to become the king of Suinhor.

From birth he carried the weight of mission and expectation. Alpens had placed all his hopes and beliefs upon him.

At his birth, Alpens had laughed with boundless joy and pride, lifting the infant Smerkel high before everyone while declaring:

“My son.”

“You are my everything, all of my hope.”

“I will entrust my kingdom, my everything to you.”

Smerkel had grown up within the City of Fire Protection, well protected. At birth he bore the same red birthmark, the mysterious divine blessing pattern.

Like his father, he too was divinely blessed.

Though blessed with a powerful physique and natural combat abilities, Smerkel lacked the unwavering determination that had forged his father. Growing up in comfort and safety, he had never faced the trials that had shaped Alpens into a leader.

He was a prince born in palaces and gardens, an idealist. By the time of his birth, Suinhor had known decades of peace, with King Alpens at his peak and the city-state free from war or crisis.

Countless people told Smerkel he was destined to become king, but none had taught him the true meaning of kingship. The qualities needed, the sacrifices demanded, the very essence of what made a true ruler – these lessons remained unlearned, these questions unanswered in his mind.

So now when Smerkel suddenly heard that his father King Alpens might pass the throne to him, he found himself at a loss.

He had only just come of age, and in his view such matters were meant for consideration far in the future.

“Become king?”

“Lead troops to war?”

Prince Smerkel’s face showed bewilderment.

The guard captain told Prince Smerkel: “Indeed, you are destined to become king.”

“Like your father, you will lead generals in the theater of war.”

“Wherever your spear points, all will kneel in submission.”

The guard captain gazed at Prince Smerkel with admiration. Though he had yet to achieve anything, everyone believed he was destined to forge the future.

The divine bloodline coursing through his veins marked him as chosen, blessed by the gods themselves.

Prince Smerkel gave no answer, simply following the guard captain to the palace where he met his father and the rulers of the Suinhor City-State.

As Prince Smerkel entered the hall, every person present rose and bowed deeply.

Alpens stepped forward, placing his hand on Prince Smerkel’s shoulder.

His voice rang with authority as he addressed the gathering, making clear this was no mere suggestion but a royal decree.

“I want my son to lead this expedition. I believe he can protect our city-state in my stead.”

“What does everyone think?”

All quickly agreed: “Prince Smerkel will surely defeat our enemies. We have never doubted this.”

Though framed as a discussion, in truth no one dared oppose the appointment of King Alpens’s only son as commander.

Smerkel’s confidence wavered, words of protest dying on his lips before they could form.

At this moment his father Alpens removed the Proof of Blood Kinship from his arm without hesitation, placing it on his son’s arm.

He embraced Smerkel, repeating the words spoken at his birth.

“My son.”

“You are my everything, all of my hope.”

“I will entrust my kingdom, my everything to you.”

Alpens released Smerkel, looking at his son with hope and expectation in his eyes.

He had spent his entire life building this kingdom with his followers and subordinates.

This was a kingdom forged in blood and fire, an order and light of civilization established through countless sacrifices.

The moment had arrived for the torch to pass to a new generation, for the future to be entrusted to younger hands.

Smerkel touched the Proof of Blood Kinship on his arm, his heart surging with excitement as his blood began to boil.

This was a Divine Artifact bestowed by the deity. In his youth he had witnessed his father wielding its unimaginable power.

With this object, it seemed no difficulty was truly difficult.

The prince turned back to see everyone’s trust and expectations.

Because he was Alpens’s son, he was destined for victory.

Moreover, he had to win this battle. Only victory could prove he was Alpens’s son and demonstrate his ability to become king.