Chapter Four: Divinity and Humanity

Looking down from high above, sunlight poured over Yuanjiang City, where faint, multicolored energies drifted through the air, occasionally crackling with electric filaments that flashed and shimmered, casting an almost lavish splendor over the entire urban landscape. In such circumstances, not a single bird ventured across the city’s sky—nor did any modern flying machines. The sky, serene and beautiful as it appeared, was, in truth, a zone of death.

Towering city walls encircled the area, blocking the gaze of wild beasts from the outside, as well as containing the ambitions of many within. Thirty years ago, following successive breakthroughs in spatial experiments across nations, this world was thrust into an era of both opportunity and peril. Strange energies seeped into every corner, and the balance of power across the globe shifted dramatically.

As pioneers underwent spiritual and physical evolution, beasts in the wilderness grew even mightier, and humanity’s dominance faced its direst threat yet. Yet, that was not the gravest horror. With the opening of spatial rifts, creatures from other realms began to appear both in the cities and the wilds. The very rules of existence started to change; modern thermal weaponry proved far less effective against these beings of mysterious and awe-inspiring power.

After several large-scale battles and bitter lessons, wise voices urged that the only way forward was the cultivation and evolution of the human body itself.

...

In the southeastern sector of Yuanjiang, a newly built district stood, its high-rises clustered close like a forest. Between many of these buildings was a verdant greenbelt of elegant trees. Amidst this greenery, a gleaming white structure rose palatial and grand—the political heart of Yuanjiang City, residence of its highest executive.

“Lord Prefect, is this truly wise? We could have eradicated the Longevity Society’s rats in one sweep, but instead allowed their blood ritual to proceed and delayed rescue… If word of this leaks, disaster may follow.”

A thin, worried middle-aged man fixed his gaze on a nearby surveillance screen, anxiety etched on his face.

Ouyang Ming, Lord Prefect, no longer possessed the fervor he had when first arriving to govern Yuanjiang. Unwittingly, he had strayed from the righteous path, embarking down a shadowy and unknown road. The man beside him—once bound to Ouyang’s fortunes, for good or ill—now wondered what fate awaited them both.

A dozen screens displayed the small villa district on Yuan Street from every angle. The images came from the surveillance hawk’s keen eye. The Yuanjiang Prefecture had monitored this group of criminals for some time; nothing escaped their notice.

Pedestrians, hidden soldiers and police, the comings and goings in the villa courtyard—it all unfolded as if before their eyes. In the room where the blood ritual was underway, no human form was visible, only the pulse of life detected. Most striking was a crimson point of light in the room’s corner, growing ever brighter, gradually taking the shape of something half-beast, half-human. Beside the red glow were two faint figures, a boy and a girl abducted for the ritual.

They had been motionless, but now, inexplicably, their forms overlapped. Perhaps they were clinging to each other in desperate sorrow. It was said that, as the blood ritual neared completion and the evil beast appeared, a psychic dread would descend, making all feel catastrophe was at hand.

Yet, this changed nothing. Those chosen as sacrifices were rarely strong—at most, faintly sensitive. Even if they sensed danger, escape was impossible, and the realization only deepened their agony. In the end, they were merely a meal for the beast.

“Sir Junshi, this is a golden opportunity… Yuanjiang may be a small city, but its resources in herbs and aquatic produce are rich—pity they’re monopolized by the Qin and Li families, leaving me powerless as Prefect. Appraisals are coming up soon—what would you have me do?”

“But…”

“At such a juncture, one must act boldly. If I can acquire even a sliver of the beast’s divine bloodline, my body will be transformed, surpassing anything pills or elixirs could offer. I might even hope, before my life ends, to forge my Origin Core and ascend to a new level of existence. When that day comes, the Qin and Li families will pose no threat. The times have changed; true achievement now depends on power.”

The stocky, middle-aged man straightened, eyes fierce, blood surging like a roaring furnace, flooding the room with heat. He raised a hand, halting Junshi’s protest.

“One cannot deny, the Longevity Society’s methods are audacious—luring a divine being from another world without a spatial passage. My half-year’s patience has not been in vain.”

Gu Junshi could only sigh, knowing further persuasion was futile. He had long heard that some old families mastered secret arts for absorbing divinity to aid their cultivation. Some succeeded spectacularly; others were warped by the influence, their natures altered. Plainly, this Prefect was among them, prepared to risk everything.

Lately, with his hands tied in Yuanjiang and rivals pressing in from all sides, Ouyang’s desperation had grown. Others sought divinity on the battlefields of spatial invasion or in perilous lands, risking life and limb. Yet Ouyang Ming, Prefect of Yuanjiang, had conceived an unthinkable plan—using his own people as bait, letting cultists act unchecked. To seize divinity, he had sacrificed his humanity; what judgment could absolve him?

“One can only hope, Lord Prefect, that this does not backfire… If that beast escapes, the streets of Yuan Central will run red. Should the capital intervene, none of us will escape blame.”

“Rest easy, Sir Junshi. The people of Yuanjiang are mine to protect. No harm will come to them. A small necessary sacrifice is acceptable if it means drawing out and destroying a divine creature. That is what truly matters,” Ouyang Ming replied with a genial smile. “If we succeed, your family will benefit most in Yuanjiang—I will keep my word.”

Gu Junshi, in charge of the Special Affairs Bureau, commanded only a modest force and was not particularly powerful himself. Yet his office bore significant responsibility—not only monitoring the public but also the government itself. He had the authority to report directly to the highest levels. Hearing Ouyang’s promise, Gu’s expression shifted, resolve hardening.

“So long as you’re confident, my lord. Still, the bloodletting victims are one thing, but those two offered alive must not cause trouble… The Xiao family has no patron left, only a widow and orphan, so that’s not an issue. But Zhang Xiaorou’s father, Zhang Yi, is not someone to provoke. He must be appeased.”

“Zhang Yi, a lone martial cultivator—what can he do? He failed to protect his daughter from the Society’s clutches. Wait—something’s changed!”

As he spoke, Ouyang Ming’s expression darkened, eyes glued to the screen. Gu Junshi turned as well. On the monitor, figures flickered inside the villa—the ritual chamber’s door had suddenly burst open.

A figure dashed out, fierce as a tiger or leopard, exuding a savage aura. Strangely, he was not alone; he carried a slight, childlike form under his arm. The runner’s face was clearly visible on the screen—delicate features, long brows and phoenix eyes, almost gentle. Yet those eyes were veined with blood, temple veins bulging, and in the face of pursuit, he showed not a trace of panic or fear.

They had underestimated the Xiao boy; was he not supposed to be weak and timid?

“Take action, now—quickly!” Ouyang Ming could no longer play the part of the composed Prefect, his voice frantic.

The sacrificial offering had escaped, alarming the beast. Would it break free and wreak havoc on the streets? Ouyang could almost hear its roar, his heart in turmoil. The final step was interrupted—would he still be able to seize the divinity?

The order went out. Shadows surged around the villa; with a thunderous crash, walls collapsed, and dazzling light flared.

...

As Xiao Nan burst from the chamber, the prickling sense of mortal danger eased slightly. But as soon as relief set in, he glimpsed a burly man charging toward him with uncanny speed—the man who had just been seated in meditation, muttering beside the blood ritual array.

Now, face contorted in fury, he sprang several meters in a single bound, lunging forward. Before he’d even closed the distance, Xiao Nan felt his breath tighten, a gale of force bearing down.

“He’s launching himself off the ground with his toes, blasting craters with each step…”

Xiao Nan’s expression changed; there was no room for wishful thinking. In his memory, after more than a decade as a soldier, he had never encountered anyone with such overwhelming vitality—whether among civilians or the military, even the strongest could perhaps muster a thousand pounds of force, their bodies robust enough to wrestle tigers or leopards head-on. That was the human limit.

Of course, some might possess superior technique, but the limits of mortal flesh remained unshakable, no matter how much one trained in martial arts or combat. Beyond a certain point, further progress was impossible.

In terms of skill and physical power, Xiao Nan—once a member of the nation’s elite Blood Thorn squad—considered himself among the best in the land. Yet, faced with this seemingly ordinary brute, he realized that even if he had his old, hardened body instead of this frail youth’s, he would be no match.

He’d once wielded a thousand pounds of strength; this man could likely double that. His speed and force were inhuman, more like a runaway truck, terrifying even to witness.

Such an enemy could not be confronted.

No, the only option was to evade.

Xiao Nan’s one advantage was his keen instinct. Without hesitation, he flung himself sideways, diving into the undergrowth, feet staggering in a strange rhythm, slipping through the gaps between encroaching shadows.

Rip—pain lanced across his shoulder as a scrap of cloth was torn free, the brute’s fingers just missing their mark. A roar thundered in his ears.

“You can’t escape. Get back in there, now!”