Two hundred and fifty million years ago.

The Henir Dynasty spanned many generations and the Trilobite Men experienced a time during which prosperity and crisis were intertwined.

Prosperity came from an abundance of resources bestowed by miraculous power, while crisis loomed as the Evil God’s ever-growing shadow hung over everyone.

The day seemed ordinary because it left no lasting mark in history.

Yet this day was extraordinarily significant because it would decide the fate of the Trilobite Men and shape the future of several figures destined to become demigods.

An elderly Trilobite Man left Stan City by the sea and arrived at Anho City, a place embroiled in turbulent intrigue.

Soldiers ran through the streets calling out, “Have you seen the person in this picture?” as they searched everywhere for a fugitive.

A Trilobite Man loudly proclaimed beneath the wanted poster on the city wall, “This is an evil villain, a demon with hands stained in blood, and if you see him, you must report to us immediately.”

As everyone looked up with hearts stirred by the reward, someone asked, “Such a high bounty?”

People stared at the ordinary young man on the wanted poster, many wondering, “Asai, have you heard this name before?”

Someone remarked, “I think he’s a fairly well-known detective from the Saint An District, wasn’t he arrested for murder recently?” while others questioned why such a minor figure warranted a high bounty.

Barrow was not visiting this place for the first time because his master had once ruled the entire Dark River region.

Although the city appeared to be under the Henir Dynasty’s rule, in reality the entire Dark River region had long fallen under the control of the Evil God’s demonic realm.

Wanted posters were plastered all over the city and were handed out along the streets.

Soldiers pushed open door after door, fiercely searching for the person named Asai.

The wanted poster displayed a portrait of a young man.

He wore a top hat and formal attire and leaned on a black cane.

The poster noted his distinctive features, including a blind right eye and a crippled leg.

Based on his appearance, he seemed like an easy target.

Because he was one-eyed and lame, claiming the bounty would be easy.

It all depended on which “lucky one” would find him.

That was why the city buzzed with excitement as everyone vied to be the lucky one.

However, Barrow knew that although most would never find him, his master Xiao surely could.

Dressed as a simple nobleman’s servant on an errand, Barrow had barely passed through the city gates before he looked toward a modest building.

A smile spread across Barrow’s face, both straightforward and touched by childlike simplicity and years of experience.

He beckoned a street child and produced some money along with a plain stone tablet wrapped in cloth from his bosom.

A corner of the tablet was visible, revealing mysterious text and symbols.

He called out, “Child, take this to that household.”

The child’s eyes fixed only on the shining coins, ignoring the cloth-wrapped tablet.

The tablet’s value lay not in its appearance but in the inscriptions of the Path of Wisdom carved upon it.

It was the stairway by which mortals ascended to mythology.

The child gratefully accepted the money and looked up with excitement.

The child asked excitedly, “Is that it, can I really get all this money just for that?”

But the old man had already vanished.

The child could only scratch his head and cross to the other side of the street where he opened a door at that fateful crossroads and handed the tablet to a young man.

The child said, “An old gentleman told me to give this to you.”

In the days that followed, Barrow watched as Asai swiftly decoded the secrets of mythology and uncovered the weakness of the Little Person in the Bottle, a mystery that Xiao had spent half his life searching for.

He then effortlessly killed the Truth High Priest serving the Evil God and seized the Door of Truth.

The scene made even the aging Barrow’s blood boil as he gazed at the Door of Truth looming over Anho City and loudly exclaimed.

“Truly amazing, Anhofus,” he said.

That gift from the Royal Bloodline family and unparalleled talent made Barrow wonder if the Samo family had not declined and if the age of the Royal Bloodline had not ended through the joint efforts of the second-generation saint Stan Tito and Henir, what might have been possible.

Had he been born a prince, what heights might he have reached?

Could he have changed the fate of the Royal Bloodline family?

Nonetheless, he remained the most brilliant figure of this era.

What followed unfolded exactly as Xiao had envisioned.

Truth Sage Vivien led Stuen in an attack on the Sacred Mountain and, under the fatal strike of Anhofus who was Asai’s reincarnation, the so-called immortal divine Evil God was completely destroyed.

That evil and unbridled Little Person in the Bottle finally died, marking both despair and liberation.

Its bottle lay shattered, and it finally gained freedom.

Then Yinsai God transcended time, leaving this era behind.

Thus, the God-Forsaken Age had arrived.

Old servant Barrow went to the God-Descended City to attend the new king’s coronation ceremony.

Although the Sacred Mountain had been reclaimed, the Yinsai Kingdom’s capital remained in the God-Descended City.

By this time, Barrow had grown completely decrepit.

He was joined by his two children for a reunion.

Each had followed a separate path on a different mission before finally reuniting at that moment.

Barrow stood among the crowd, watching as Truth Sage Vivien crowned the new king in front of the palace.

A voice exclaimed, “Another Yinsai King!”

Another voice sighed, “What a pity.”

A voice remarked, “The King of Wisdom is gone, the royal authority is long lost, and even the divine beings have departed.”

He gazed at the Yinsai King’s crown, which contained a gemstone.

It was Xiao’s Wisdom Stone.

Xiao’s Wisdom Stone had been fashioned into a Divine Artifact by Anli and set into the crown of this generation’s Henir King to protect the monarch and safeguard Yinsai.

Behind him, his two sons stood silently and expressionless like wooden puppets.

Barrow turned back and asked with a gentle smile, “Is it ready?”

The two sons exchanged glances and then nodded at Barrow.

One son declared, “It has succeeded.”

Barrow exhaled a long, measured breath and murmured, “That’s good, that’s good,” as he turned back to observe the grand ceremony, ready to witness the final peak glory of the Trilobite Men.

Barrow declared, “I won’t last until the next era, so let me take my final bow alongside the most glorious moment of the Trilobite Men.”

Barrow’s eldest son couldn’t help asking, “Will everything come to an end?”

For many years, old servant Barrow had followed Xiao and acquired insights that ordinary people did not possess.

Barrow declared, “Everything we have comes from Yinsai, for we have always taken without giving back.”

“When the great Yinsai God grows weary of our limitless greed, we will walk toward destruction. We haven’t created a future; we have merely enjoyed the grace of the divine, and how can we not face an end?”

At that moment, he added, “If someday someone among us can become divine, if we can create our own miracles, then perhaps we can truly establish ourselves in this world.”

He clarified that the “we” he spoke of was not limited to him and his sons but applied to all the Trilobite Men.

Reflecting on this, Barrow’s second son nodded and said, “So perhaps the departure of the divine is also a good thing.”

Then, the eldest son inquired, “Can any among us achieve this?”

Barrow sighed, “What a pity—the opportunity has been missed.”

“We could not create miracles under divine bestowal, let alone in an age without Yinsai.”

“The era we live in was Yinsai’s final chance for mortals.”

“If we miss it, it is missed forever.”

Though Barrow spoke with regret, his voice held no sorrow.

His gaze, fixed on the high platform, pierced through time as he surveyed the history of the Trilobite Men, watching them repeatedly miss opportunities.

Yet he knew that, in the future, their moment would surely come.

Barrow continued, “Miracles are called miracles precisely because mortals cannot create them.”

“But we are descendants of the King of Wisdom, and among us will always be a few who inherit divine power, wisdom, and talent, achieving what others cannot.”

“They will, in the final moment, seize the last opportunity.”

“Though we cannot see it now, in the distant future the seeds sown today will bear fruit.”

“Those who grasp this final opportunity will cross the heavenly gulf between gods and humans and reach the threshold of immortality.”

Barrow did not know if others would succeed, but he believed his master certainly would. Still, that was a concern for a distant future.

At the coronation ceremony, people rejoiced as the event reached its climax. Yet Barrow slipped away from the crowd.

When he saw the jewel upon the crown, he knew his part of the plan was complete.

His face then bore once more the straightforward, wise smile of an elder.

Barrow intoned, “In this world, everything passes away except one thing: mythological power.”

“It is the authority Yinsai bestowed upon the three gods and the very bloodline we inherited from Wisdom King Redlichia.”

“It will never disappear.”

“It is an intrinsic part of the divine, carrying true eternity.”

Barrow walked steadily through the crowd onto the spacious street and proclaimed, “People will betray out of desire.”

“People will forget as time passes.”

“People will die from decay.”

“But artifacts will not!”

While he appeared to be referring to the crown, Barrow’s two sons understood he meant something more.

Barrow’s younger son asked, “If that’s the case, why didn’t Yinsai God create a world composed solely of artifacts?”

Barrow turned back, laughing at his younger son’s naive words, and replied, “Because that is Yinsai, my child.”

“He can create everything and bestows all without expecting anything in return.”

“He needs no artifacts because he created us simply because he could.”

“He gave us everything out of compassion.”

The implication was that only the creator gives life without expecting anything in return, and his gifts to this world are freely given.

He does not merely possess everything, but rather he transcends it all.

Neither mortals nor other divine beings can do this.

The three continued walking until they reached the end of the street, with the port and ocean not far ahead.

Basking in the sea breeze, Barrow eventually turned back.

Barrow stated, “I’m glad you completed your mission, but now we must each go fulfill our final plans.”

“The cause has been planted and all that remains is to wait for the day it blossoms.”

“My children, this is our covenant with the master.”

Barrow assigned the final tasks, and his gaze upon his two children grew unfathomably deep.

His eyes held no emotion, which made them all the more intimidating.

The eldest son asked, “How long is this time limit?”

Barrow replied, “Until the day our master becomes a god.”

The son then wondered, “What if we cannot wait, what if our descendants cannot wait?”

Barrow answered, “Then let them continue waiting in our place.”

“Forever waiting!”

Second Era.

Land of Light.

Although Duma ultimately could not discover who Barrow was, she sensed a fragment of the divine being’s emotions.

Those scenes of life’s evolution were not records of historical civilizations but imprints of the divine being’s repeated descents upon this world, never to truly return.

Over millions of years, he had grown weary of endless spiritual reincarnation.

Her mother believed that the divine required sacrifice and could not awaken because something was missing.

But she knew, “It’s not missing. It’s lost.”

Duma looked out the door toward a distant corner of the mortal world.

According to the Snake People’s records, there was an island as vast as a continent.

Everything from the previous era, everything that was once lost, was left on Ruhe Beast Island.

If the divine being had lost anything, it was most likely to have remained on that island.

She would have to go to that island to find what the divine had lost.

At the thought, a trace of fear appeared on Duma’s face.

She had once crossed the sea, attempting to reach Ruhe Beast Island as recorded by the Snake People, to determine if the realm of the divine beings they worshipped truly existed.

However, before she could even glimpse Ruhe Beast Island, an endless black storm forced her back.

Within the black storm, she saw the shadow of a world-devouring demon god and heard the blast of a horn that signaled the end of the world.

She observed, “That is a world created by the Life Sovereign.”

She finally understood that divine beings differ from one another and that the differences between them might be even greater than those between gods and humans.

Above all, there existed a being who stood atop the world and the stars, the true creator.

Finally, Duma once again took out the metal cube.

This time it did not transform into a single silver-winged metal flying dragon. Instead, it shattered into palm-sized dragons that swarmed around her.

Duma sent them into the mortal world so that they could travel to the origin site in the Snake People’s history, the abode of the divine beings.

“Become my eyes,” she commanded.

“Go see that place where the divine beings reside.”

Duma watched as they flew through the passage toward the mortal world, uncertain how many would reach their destination.

After all, as long as one managed to pass through the Storm Sea and reach Ruhe Beast Island, it would be enough.

Creator’s Domain.

Pyramid Temple.

Yinsai God was absent, while Dream Sovereign Hila stood arranging items on the table.

She raised a finger, causing various disorganized objects to arrange themselves neatly.

Another wave of her hand automatically replenished the contents of dishes, boxes, and jars.

Neither Yinsai God nor Life Sovereign Shelly were the types of divine beings who enjoyed tidying up or keeping everything neat and orderly.

They often left the temple in disarray.

At that moment, a rainbow light suddenly illuminated the wide window of the temple.

A passage appeared in the hollow of the Rainbow Tree, revealing a scene from the far side.

It was the Temple of Life of the Life Sovereign.

The Life Sovereign excitedly looked at Hila from the other end of the tree hollow, happily waving.

The Life Sovereign called out, “Hila, can you see me? I’m coming over, coming over.”

Beside Life Sovereign Shelly stood a pouting Wood Nymph – none other than the ever-wandering Saint Raphael.

Hila immediately said, “No!” then added, “Shelly, don’t bully the nymphs.”

Saint Raphael nodded pitifully, her beautiful eyes expressing agreement as if to say, “Lady Hila is absolutely right.”

Hila said very seriously to Shelly, “Shelly, if you squeeze through, you’ll burst the nymph’s tree hollow.”

“Oh?”

“I see!”

Shelly was somewhat disappointed but ultimately abandoned her plan to crawl through the tree hollow.

She said to the nymph Saint Raphael beside her, “Nymphs are so weak, you must become stronger until one day I can also fit through a tree hollow.”

“Understand?”

The nymph looked utterly miserable and could only murmur, “Mmm.”

Saint Raphael raised her little head, unsure how much stronger she needed to become for Shelly to fit through a tree hollow.

Not long after, Shelly arrived at the Pyramid Temple in a hot air balloon to once again use Hila’s magic mirror.

Dream Sovereign Hila and Life Sovereign Shelly huddled together, watching as curious new sights from the mortal world appeared in the mirror.

Occasionally, Hila used miraculous power to manifest these objects on the spot so they could examine them together.

Hila suddenly remembered and said, “Shelly, the Sele Sea Spirit preserved the Sacred Mountain and God-Servant City, while the Star of Death kept the Pottery Temple.”

“Have the other beasts also preserved parts of the former Yinsai?”

Hila was curious about what the other beasts had preserved and whether there were places familiar to her.

So she asked the common master of the beasts next to her.

However, it was clear that the Life Sovereign next to her was not a particularly reliable divine being.

She was not very familiar with her subordinates.

Shelly thought for a long time and murmured, “Hmm.”

Then she tilted her head to one side and continued, “Mmm.”

She pondered for a very long time before finally shaking her head.

Shelly finally said, “I don’t know either. They do not like to talk and never told me.”

Hila smiled and said, “Then let’s take a look. We’ll know once we see.”

New images appeared in the spirit’s magic mirror.

Heaven’s Mirror showed a great mountain and an ancient city frozen in ice.

In the Star Night Mountain Range, there was a ruined temple, though the building was too damaged to discern its former appearance or purpose.

In the barren desert, magnificent buildings occasionally emerged amid the storm.

Finally, the image shifted to a patch of sky.

Hila and Shelly leaned close to the mirror, but all they saw was a field of white.

As the distance widened, they realized it was a cloud.

Hila wondered, “Why is it just a cloud?”

Could it be that the beast had preserved a cloud from the previous era?

Shelly also stared for a long time before finally confirming.

“No,”

“It’s blocking the view.”

She shouted at the mirror, “Hey!”

“Don’t block it!”

“Show yourself!”

As soon as she spoke, the cloud layer parted like two doors, revealing the scene behind it.

It was a city floating above a sea of clouds and shrouded in peculiar mist.

It was this layer of mist that supported it, allowing it to mysteriously hang in the high sky.

Hila recognized it at a glance.

“Oh!”

“It’s the Trilobite Men’s God-Descended City.”

Although it was not the complete God-Descended City, the Wisdom Palace left by the second-generation Wisdom King Yesael and most of the main buildings still remained.

Shelly pouted, “God-Given City, God-Descended City, God-Servant City.”

“The Trilobite Men all named things the same way.”

Ruhe Beast Island.

The Land of Sunrise bordered the Sunrise Mountains on one side and the sea on the other.

To the north, across rugged mountain ridges, lay Thunder Marsh.

This marsh was vast.

Some areas resembled an ocean, others a watery jungle paradise, and some were nothing but filthy mire.

The depths of Thunder Marsh were extremely dangerous, and even its outer areas occasionally experienced thunder, strange mists, storms, and other phenomena.

After all, it was a deadly forbidden zone.

Compared to other forbidden zones, Thunder Marsh was relatively safe, with abundant resources, numerous Snake People villages, and many animals inhabiting it.

People were propelling a boat carrying more than a dozen passengers through the marsh, slowly navigating the water jungle.

They were traveling to the Land of Sunrise by this route, which was more convenient and faster than going by sea.

It was also cheaper, though somewhat dangerous.

Water and jungle merged, creating a wonderful experience as they traveled, as if passing through paradise.

Suddenly, strange white mist spread across the water.

The mist made the jungle even more beautiful and dreamlike, astonishing the passengers.

The mist was peculiar and very dense.

Rather than dispersing, it clung to the water’s surface, writhing like clouds.

Someone even reached out curiously to touch the white mist.

Seeing this, the boatman immediately shouted, “Don’t touch the mist, don’t touch it!”

This startled the passengers, who didn’t understand.

The boatman was clearly experienced, aware of the mist’s special properties.

Soon, something extraordinary happened.

The white mist entwined around the bottom of the boat, slowly lifting it.

As they rose higher, the passengers panicked, exclaiming, “We’re flying!”

Some passengers lay down flat, fearing the boat would capsize, and one asked, “What’s happening, why are we floating?”

But the boatman said, “Don’t worry!”

“Just listen to me, and everything will be fine,” he assured.

“Don’t panic!” he added.

Seeing everyone calm down, the boatman continued.

“The mist in Thunder Marsh should not be touched carelessly because this kind of mist is usually found only in the marsh’s depths, although it occasionally escapes to the outer areas,” he explained.

“Previously, someone in the deep marsh touched this mist and immediately became entirely transparent.”

The boatman looked at everyone very seriously, “In the end, he dissolved in the mist,” the boatman said.

“The mist ate him,” he added.

Everyone huddled together in fear, not daring to touch the mist wrapping the boat’s bottom.

The boatman continued, “However!”

“These clouds have no effect on ordinary objects and plants. They only affect living things, and they will not actively attack living creatures unless you foolishly touch them,” he explained.”

A passenger asked, “But we’re flying now, how will we get down later?”

The boatman said, “Don’t worry, the mist will soon descend just as it did when we rose.”

“I’m very familiar with this area and will bring you back,” he reassured them.”

The boatman leaned on his pole, smiling.

“It’s also a nice experience, flying in a boat. It’s something you’ve probably never experienced before,” he said.

Seeing the boatman so steady, everyone relaxed.

What they did not know was that the pure white clouds were not actually clouds, but the breath exhaled by the Ruhe Beast Sky Beast.

The powerful force and its mastery of the laws of power meant that its breath carried mythological power.

Even within that breath, a type of creature subordinate to the Sky Beast might be born.

Seeing that there was truly no danger, everyone began appreciating the scenery from this height, watching the jungle below recede and the sky and sea of clouds draw nearer.

Some cowered in fear, trembling from acrophobia.

Others were excited, treating the experience as a legendary tale.

Some looked toward the depths of Thunder Marsh.

There, the clouds were even more peculiar.

White clouds connected the sky and the marsh, forming a cloud mountain or a white wall.

Just as he was about to ask the boatman about these clouds, the cloud mountain abruptly dispersed, revealing a corner of the high sea of clouds.

A magnificent ancient city shimmered faintly among the clouds.

The Trilobite Men’s God-Descended City.

The passenger who saw this involuntarily stood up, pointed, and shouted, “What… what… what is that?”

Others followed his gaze, similarly witnessing this shocking scene.

Even the boatman, who had lived in Thunder Marsh for generations, was now dumbfounded.

A city in the sky?” he muttered.

He had never heard of such a thing, nor had his ancestors ever seen it.

The boat fell silent.

Everyone held their breath, not daring to speak.

They believed this might be where the divine beings dwelled.

They believed that speaking might disturb the divine beings in the clouds.

Only when the boat descended with the mist and returned to the water’s surface did everyone begin discussing what they had seen.

“That must be the divine realm, the kingdom of the divine beings,” someone exclaimed.

“A city in the clouds, which divine being’s realm is this?”

“No wonder the deep marsh is forbidden, there’s a divine being living there.”

“We actually saw the divine realm.”

And so, news of a divine realm in the deep marsh spread.