Primordial Era: Starting with Self-Created Mythical Great Luo Law

They came from a Western Buddhist sect. The leader was tall and slender with a kind face, yet his brows exuded an unshakeable majesty.

Those eyes were as clear as an ancient well, filled with compassion, yet also sharp and piercing.

"Master Tongtian, we sensed a surge of strange phenomena here and have come to investigate." The middle-aged monk spoke, his voice like a bell, warm yet carrying an undeniable solemnity.

The Master of Tongtian Sect smiled and clasped his hands in greeting: "Greetings. I am Tongtian, and this is the location of the Tongtian Sect's mountain gate."

The middle-aged monk returned the greeting with palms together and a peaceful smile: "This humble monk is Manjushri, and I am honored to be the disciple of the head of the Western Buddhist sect. I have no intention of competing with you, but only wish to join forces with fellow practitioners to protect the peace of all living beings in this primordial world."

Upon hearing this, the Tongtian Sect Leader paused slightly, then smiled, his eyes filled with genuine warmth—the Western Buddhist sect has always upheld righteousness and morality, and their arrival was like rain after a long drought, adding an indestructible barrier to the prehistoric world.

"Manjushri Bodhisattva's righteousness is deeply admired by all. What our sect seeks is nothing more than the peace and stability of all living beings and the tranquility of heaven and earth. From now on, working together with one heart and one mind will be a blessing for humanity." He spoke solemnly, each word resounding.

Manjushri Bodhisattva nodded and smiled, his gaze warm. At this moment, Chen Yu and Yang Jian stepped forward side by side, their steps firm, their eyes shining brightly.

"Senior brother, junior brother, this is Manjushri Bodhisattva of the Western Buddhist sect. From now on, we will fight side by side," Chen Yu said loudly.

Yang Jian clasped his hands in a fist salute, and Chen Yu returned the salute; their movements were synchronized and showed great respect.

Manjushri Bodhisattva gently raised his hand to support them, his smile as bright as the moon shining on a cold pool: "My two fellow Daoists are originally of the same mind and origin. Our meeting today is not accidental, but a necessity for the primordial world—may we join hands and guard this land together."

Thus, the powerful figures of the Tongtian Sect and the Western Buddhist sect gathered together, based on faith and armed with righteousness, to jointly forge the most solid Great Wall protecting the primordial world.

Their figures became an inextinguishable beacon in the chaos of war, illuminating the darkness, quelling calamities, and protecting all living things.

Auspicious clouds hung low, and auspicious air filled the air. The four figures—Tongtian Jiaozhu, Manjushri Bodhisattva, Chen Yu, and Yang Jian—stood on the clouds, their robes fluttering lightly, their auras blending harmoniously—solemn yet not imposing, solemn yet warm.

Their eyes met, and without a word, a weighty promise flowed silently between them.

The Tongtian Sect Leader spoke slowly, his voice as gentle as a breeze sweeping across the hills: "Today's alliance is not a temporary expedient, but rather a matter of vital importance to the very survival of the primordial world. What we hold in our hands is not swords, but the tomorrow entrusted to us by all living beings—we are willing to give our all for a brighter and more secure tomorrow."

Manjushri Bodhisattva smiled and nodded, his eyes gentle yet sharp, seemingly able to pierce through the mists of eternity: "No matter what storms the primordial world may encounter, we will stand shoulder to shoulder, protecting every breath, every inch of this land. May peace be as unshakable as a rock, and order as ceaseless as a long river."

Chen Yu and Yang Jian nodded silently, their hearts surging with passion and their convictions as firm as iron. They knew that this was not merely the superposition of four great forces, but the prologue to a brand new epic.

The four of them were in sync, their thoughts connected, and a powerful force rose from their dantian, surging and surging throughout their bodies.

Gold, blue, silver, and red halos lit up in succession, like star trails returning to their positions, intertwining, permeating, and merging with each other, gradually weaving a flowing warp and weft of light.

In an instant, a vast white light burst forth from its body, cascading down like a waterfall and instantly covering the primordial world.

The light contained radiant truth and clear wisdom, as if the Way of Heaven itself had opened the door, revealing the ultimate truth to the world.

Amidst the surging light and shadow, the four figures slowly dissolved and reforged, eventually coalescing into a pillar of light that pierced through the sea of ​​clouds, reaching the heavens and illuminating the eight directions.

A pillar of light pierced the heart, and a new guardian stood tall—his golden robes fluttered like flames, his face was serene and gentle, his brows held profound compassion, and his eyes held the sharpest insights into the myriad phenomena. He inherited the spirit of the Four Saints and gathered the essence of the Four Symbols, becoming the backbone of the new life of the primordial world.

He slowly looked around, and as far as his eyes could see, the grass and trees drooped, the birds perched in the air, and all living beings felt as if they were being gently caressed by the warm sun.

With both palms slowly raised, a holy radiance overflowed like spring water, thawing the frozen earth, causing withered branches to sprout, and even the smallest mayflies to flutter their wings and shine.

From then on, the wilderness entered a long-awaited period of peace and tranquility. The people cultivated the fertile fields, the beasts rested in the forests, the mountains and rivers regained their verdant green, and the streams flowed with clear water.

This is indeed a new legend, a rebirth of power.

Four supreme beings, bound by their shared destiny, forged a more resilient and brighter tomorrow—the primordial world regained its heartbeat and rekindled its fervent hopes. They vowed to guard this realm, without beginning or end.

Thus began the Golden Age. All living beings basked in its blessings, enjoying abundance; the earth breathed in rhythm, and all things flourished.

The new guardian stands at the heart of the primordial world, his golden robes billowing like clouds, his compassionate eyes serenely observing the rise and fall of the mortal realm.

With every gesture, there is the steadiness of mountains and the clarity of the Milky Way, as if the heart of heaven has descended to earth, untouched by the dust of the world.

As time passed, peace gradually took shape, and order became the very breath of life. Under His guidance, all living beings worked tirelessly, building cities and digging canals, compiling laws and establishing covenants, and irrigating every inch of land into a nursery of hope.

There is no longer any barrier between humans and gods; incense and prayers intertwine into a song, and ancient proverbs are sung in the cooking smoke and echo around the campfire.

He became the most reassuring lamp in the hearts of all living beings—seeing his light brings peace of mind; remembering his name brings tranquility to the soul.

Just as auspicious clouds hung low and the sounds of bells and chimes lingered, a wisp of darkness quietly crept up to the edge of the primordial wilderness. It was not a thick, dark shadow, but a silently spreading, cold mist, lurking at the edge of the earth's veins, waiting for its chance to strike.

It remains silent, yet it has already laid out a web of schemes: seemingly ordinary drought locusts, sudden plagues, inexplicable amnesia... all are its poisonous breath, seeking to erode the foundation of peace and establish a new, bleak order.

The new guardian's golden light dimmed slightly, his vigilance taut like a bowstring. He had long realized that peace was not a gift from heaven; it required blood and bones as a shield and wisdom as a blade to protect this hard-won world.

At the first light of dawn, while the rosy clouds were still spreading across the horizon, a storm suddenly descended. The darkness finally shed its disguise, and with the force of a thunderbolt, it hurtled straight towards the top of the pillar of light!

The curtain of the decisive battle has been raised. The fate of the primordial world hangs by a thread once more. Heroes of the past don their armor once more, and rising youths take up their swords—peace is never obtained through prayer, but only through repeated acts of bravery.

Just as the first ray of golden sunlight pierced the treetops and gently brushed against the golden robe on the new guardian's shoulder, a thick, inky shadow suddenly surged up in the far west of the primordial wilderness.

It is formless and invisible, yet it causes the entire sky to suddenly lose its temperature, even the wind freezes, all sounds cease, and only a chill that penetrates to the bone remains, quietly creeping across every leaf vein and every inch of rock crevice.

The new guardian gazes into the distance, his lips still warm, but his brows subtly furrow.

What flashed through his mind in that instant was not panic, but the calm before a mountain collapses—he knew that the real trial was only just beginning.

In the vast wilderness, rumors swept across the mountains and fields like the wind, chilling the spines of all living beings, as if dark clouds were pressing down on their brows.

But instead of scattering and fleeing, they clenched their fists, brandished their weapons, and placed their hands together, preparing to face the unknown calamity that was about to strike.