In the sky, the diamond-shaped giant eye slowly closed, leaving only a slit stretching from north to south, like the eyelid of a sleeping beauty—sometimes quivering ever so slightly.
The light spilling out from the Ancestor‑Spirit Realm looked just like the eyelashes of a beauty—except instead of black, these lashes shimmered in every color.
If Quinn Shepherd were here, he would definitely be astonished.
Unfortunately, he’s not here right now—he’s already entered the Ancestor‑Spirit Realm.
Quinn found it hard to describe what he was feeling at this moment.
He stood in the center of God‑Queen Langwo’s palm, floating amid a boundless sea of glowing thoughts—each flickering consciousness like the electrical pulses of a brain.
As they traveled through this sea, he heard grand, whale-like songs echoing from the brain-shaped thoughts—like giant kun swimming in the ocean—vast, mysterious sounds whose meaning he couldn’t grasp. He saw majestic mountains and rivers flashing past, retreating behind him at dizzying speed.
He saw the starry sky, where the footprints of giants appeared amidst the rivers of stars, roaming freely across the universe.
He witnessed the birth of countless worlds—each one so grand and mesmerizing, spinning before him and swallowing him whole.
He also saw the destruction of world after world—a kind of breathtaking, harrowing beauty in their ruin.
These were the memories of the Creator Ancestor-Spirits; he and God‑Queen Langwo were passing through the consciousness of these Creators, witnessing scenes from their recollections.
He heard countless grand voices—some whispering in his mind, some roaring across battlefields with the thunder of war drums and the clash of arms. He heard strange, solemn chants, as if multitudes were gathered for a sacred ritual.
Among these sounds were insights into nature, reflections on the world itself.
These, too, were memories of the Creator Ancestor-Spirits: memory was not just images, but sound as well.
After a while, Quinn was brought by God‑Queen Langwo to the center of the Ancestor‑Spirit Realm.
Here, Quinn saw the ancient beings who had sacrificed themselves and fused with the Taichu Primal Stone to create the Ancestor‑Spirit Realm.
Towering figures loomed there, hazy and indistinct, standing in red light—giants that seemed to hold up the world itself.
There were twenty-seven of them. These twenty-seven Creators were the leaders who, through endless peril, led the last of their kind and forged the Beyond‑Shore World.
Every race has heroes who give their wisdom and lives for their people; the Creators were no exception.
At the Creators’ darkest hour, a group of legendary figures stepped forward, shouldering the burden, sacrificing themselves to battle Supreme Emperor, trapping him within the Supreme Divine Sense Domain.
Afterward, another wave of Creator heroes emerged, leading the survivors in a desperate escape—evading pursuit, crossing deserts, and reaching the very edge of the Grand Void Expanse.
It was they who built the Void Bridge and the three mysterious rooms, guiding the last of their people to open up the Beyond‑Shore World.
And when their strength was finally spent and death was certain, they fused themselves with the Taichu Primal Stone, becoming the Ancestor‑Spirit Realm—vowing to protect their kin even in death.
Some were gifted, some brilliant, some possessed boundless might; only thus could they design such an ingenious Void Bridge and the three rooms—traps so subtle that even Venerable Void and Flame‑Venerable could be caught.
“People worthy of deep respect,” Quinn said solemnly, his heart full of reverence.
God‑Queen Langwo set him down, rippling her divine sense to awaken the ancient Creators and inform them about the Saint Baby.
The twenty-seven Creators stirred, their obscure god-sense intertwining and clashing as they exchanged views.
Quinn stood in the void, feeling a growing unease.
He even wondered: if these ancient minds decided to kill him, could God‑Queen Langwo really stop them?
Would these twenty-seven Creator leaders even heed God‑Queen Langwo’s words?
One vast thought rippled gently, turning into a voice that resonated through the Ancestor‑Spirit Realm. Quinn felt as if countless gazes fell upon him, seeing through everything—leaving him with no secrets at all.
“For an outsider to become the Saint Baby of our Creator race—surely that’s absurd. Yet prophecy is not baseless; the ancestral divine sense in the Ancestral Court never said the Saint Baby must be a Creator.”
That immense thought continued calmly, “Since the God‑Queen and our people have brought you here, you must have some extraordinary quality—enough to win their allegiance.”
Another vast thought said, “The Saint Baby must bear our wisdom—not only to face our enemies, but to lead our race to revival. We have some questions for you. If you can answer, perhaps you possess such wisdom.”
Quinn responded affirmatively.
A weighty thought spoke: “A man named Ye Greenwood Keane came to the Beyond‑Shore World. He was an old friend of our benefactor Cloud‑Venerable, seeking a place for his sword. He split nearly half the Beyond‑Shore World with a single stroke and founded Carefree Haven. The feud between Creators and Carefree Haven has lasted almost twenty thousand years. How will you remove Ye Greenwood Keane and Carefree Haven, so that Beyond‑Shore World may know peace again?”
Quinn said, “I can restore peace to the Beyond‑Shore World, but I will not destroy Carefree Haven.”
“We’d like to hear more.”
Quinn said, “I am Ye Greenwood Keane’s 107th-generation descendant. If I become the Saint Baby, I can broker peace between the Creators and Carefree Haven.”
The towering figures shook, making the Ancestor‑Spirit Realm tremble violently. A terrifying storm of thought erupted, divine sense surging in endless turmoil.
God‑Queen Langwo frowned slightly, inwardly blaming Quinn for revealing his identity so quickly.
If only the Ancestor‑Spirits could be gradually won over, then the revelation of Quinn’s identity would make them hesitate before acting.
But for Quinn to expose his connection to the Pioneer Emperor so soon—wasn’t that a bit reckless?
“You’re an outsider, and a descendant of Ye Greenwood Keane—aren’t you a spy?”
Another immense thought vibrated through the realm: “We’ll give you a chance to explain. If you can’t satisfy us, we won’t accept you as the Saint Baby.”
Quinn said, “May I ask the honored Ancestor‑Spirits—what is a Creator? What does it mean to be of the Creator race?”
The towering figures were momentarily stunned.
Quinn said, “I now possess the Taichu Primal Stone and vast divine sense. I can create things. Does that make me a Creator?”
One Ancestor‑Spirit’s divine sense rippled: “You may indeed be called a Creator.”