In the cold and endless darkness of the cosmos, an oval continent, shaped like a primordial egg, floats in the void—this is the Wildmarch Continent. At this very moment, tens of millions of miles away, a gigantic stone monolith, towering over a hundred thousand zhang, its surface pitch-black and radiating an ancient, mysterious, and awe-inspiring aura, is moving inexorably toward Wildmarch.
Mysterious runes flicker across the surface of the monolith. Every time they flash, the surrounding void warps and shatters, only to instantly re-form. With each breath, the space around it is destroyed and rebuilt hundreds of times.
The Hundred Gods Realm—a unique domain anchored to the Ten Human Realms, serving as the sacred territory of the Human Race's gods.
Here, spiritual energy is unimaginably dense; immortal birds soar and beasts roam freely. All kinds of Spirit Medicines grow like weeds, but no one dares harvest them.
At the center of this domain stands a vast complex of palaces.
Here lies the Dao fields—the sacred grounds of the Hundred Gods of the Human Race.
In one of the grand palaces, a breathtaking green-haired woman dressed in simple white robes sits cross-legged, her demeanor solemn as she weaves endless hand seals—she is Goddess Cassandra, the Prophet.
Around her, several dozen gods and goddesses, each dressed differently, stand in silence.
But one thing is the same—their eyes are all fixed on the green-haired woman.
Suddenly—
The green-haired woman's face twists in pain. With a gasp, she spits out a mouthful of golden blood, making the crowd tense up in alarm.
Yet no one dares disturb her.
Even as she coughs up blood, the hand seals in her hands never stop. After she spits blood five times, she finally halts, exhausted.
"Goddess Cassandra, this is a Spirit-Nurturing Pill I personally refined. Please take it—it will help restore and stabilize your soul wounds."
A disheveled gray-robed elder quickly steps forward and hands her a bottle of pills.
"Thank you, Old Medicine."
Goddess Cassandra nods, takes the bottle, and swallows two pills. Her once-pale face grows noticeably rosier.
"Goddess Cassandra, what did you see?"
Seeing her recover, a burly god asks urgently.
Goddess Cassandra frowns slightly. "I saw a gigantic stone monolith flying toward the continent. According to my calculations, it's highly likely to descend within Human Territory."
"A stone monolith?" The crowd looked puzzled, except for one elder whose face lit up with excitement. "Could it be the Creation Sky Monolith!"
"What is the Creation Sky Monolith?"
All eyes turned to the elder, curiosity piqued.
This elder was Eldon, the God of Longevity—the oldest among the Human gods. No one but himself knew how many years he'd lived.
Eldon seemed lost in memory. After a long pause, he slowly spoke, revealing a secret few had ever heard: "Before I became a god, I once obtained a special stone book. According to its records, the beings of this world originally knew nothing of cultivation."
It wasn't until ten thousand years later that a strange stone monolith drifted out of the void and descended on a region of the Wildmarch Continent. The nearby beings comprehended countless cultivation methods, inheritances, and divine weapons from it, and the path of cultivation spread from there. Legend has it the monolith held forty-nine strands of Creation Divine Light; anyone who obtained one and fused it into their body would see their strength soar and have a real chance to shatter the limit of godhood and escape this world's cage!
For this reason, the ancients named it the Creation Sky Monolith. But it only stayed on the Wildmarch Continent for ten years before departing back into the universe."
Upon hearing that a strand of Creation Divine Light could allow one to break free of this world, everyone's eyes shone with hope and longing.
For all living beings, the ultimate goal is to become a god.
But what they don't realize is that after becoming gods, their cultivation stagnates forever. No further progress is possible. The only way to advance is to escape this world.
Yet when they try to transcend, they discover the world itself has become a giant cage, blocking their path.
Unable to improve, unable to escape—the only thing left is to wait for death.
When power and wealth become easy to obtain, they lose their value. Only newly ascended gods care about such things; the old gods don't bother. And with their strength locked, they crave transcendence more than ever.
"Eldon, does that stone book record what happened to those who obtained Creation Divine Light in the end?" a goddess asked, her voice tinged with urgency.
Eldon shook his head. "The book doesn't say, but it does mention that the founders of all Ten Great Races once received Creation Divine Light."
"This is our chance!"
Someone said, "If we can seize the Creation Divine Light from the Creation Sky Monolith, we could leave this cage and explore other worlds!"
"No, it's also a disaster!"
Another god shook his head, face clouded with worry. "If Goddess Cassandra could roughly calculate the monolith's landing zone, then at least the gods of the other nine races can too. The Ten Human Realms will become the battleground. Our Human Race ranks only eighth among the Ten Great Races—if we become the main target, we risk annihilation. And with only forty-nine strands of Creation Divine Light, a god-level war is inevitable. How many of us will survive?"
His analysis left everyone looking grim, but deep down, a restless excitement stirred in their hearts.
Death may be terrifying, but for a chance at transcendence, even dying is worth the risk.
"Not long ago, the Insect Race launched a major offensive against the Human borders. Maybe their gods already knew the Creation Sky Monolith was coming!" someone speculated.
"Very likely!" another agreed. "Recently, all our neighbors have been restless, showing signs of aggression against Human Territory. They probably caught wind of the prophecy too!"
"Blessing and calamity go hand in hand," someone sighed.
Eldon nodded. "It all depends on how the Human Race seizes this opportunity. If we succeed, we could soar to become first among the Ten Great Races. If we fail, the entire Human Race may be wiped out!"
On the vast ocean, a lone ship sailed steadily forward.
Inside the cabin—
Rosie Ning looked worried. "Young Master, now that you've killed disciples of the Skysea Sword Sect, are we still going there?"
"Of course we're going! Compared to real interests, the deaths of a few disciples mean nothing!"
Ian Song answered with a mysterious, confident smile.
Rosie, Wes Wei, and Holly Hong were all extremely curious—just what was Young Master's real reason for visiting Skysea Sword Sect?
In the blink of an eye, three months passed.
On the frontier, the earlier Insect Horde wave had been cleansed by the border armies. Refugees returned to their original cities, but the war had slaughtered huge numbers of ordinary Humans. Now, most cities had barely a tenth of their former population.
With the frontier matters settled, commander Victor Chao was about to withdraw his troops to their original garrisons, when he received shocking news—the Insect Horde had returned in force, far greater than before.