Fabricating myths, starting with the creation of eight fictional ancient tribes

……

The next morning.

When the first rays of sunlight shine on the land of Tokyo.

This place has completely changed.

The once bustling streets are now a scene of devastation.

Burning car wrecks were everywhere, and shattered glass covered the road.

Mutilated corpses lay scattered haphazardly in the streets.

Tokyo Tower was still belching thick smoke, its structure leaning precariously as if it might collapse at any moment.

The air was filled with the pungent smell of burning and blood.

This place is no longer a human city.

It was the ghost kingdom of that headless ghost general.

This event, through satellite images and online uploads by survivors, instantly shocked the world.

At the Japanese Prime Minister's official residence, Prime Minister Abe, the fourth son of the Japanese Prime Minister, did not sleep all night.

He sat in his office, his hair disheveled and his eyes dark-rimmed.

The several red telephones on the desk were ringing incessantly, like a death knell.

The secretary pushed open the door and came in, holding a thick stack of reports in her hands, her face as pale as a sheet of paper.

"Your Excellency... the latest casualty statistics are in..."

The secretary's voice was choked with sobs, and she could barely stand.

"Tokyo Tower... spontaneously combusted, structurally damaged..."

"A horrific massacre has occurred in Sakura Residential Complex; not a single resident survived..."

"The entire Shibuya Police Department was wiped out in the line of duty; the police chief was found hanged from the flagpole..."

"The death toll has now exceeded tens of thousands..."

"That's enough!"

Abe Kosei slammed his fist on the table and roared.

"I don't want to hear these numbers! I want a solution!"

"Where are the Self-Defense Forces? Where is the Onmyoji Association? Where have all those so-called masters gone?"

Just then, the dedicated telephone line on the table that connects directly to the Imperial Palace rang.

Abe Kosei shuddered, as if he had been electrocuted.

His hands trembled as he picked up the receiver.

"Your Majesty... Your Majesty..."

On the other end of the phone came the Emperor's furious roar.

"You idiot! What are you good for?!"

"This is a procession of ghostly soldiers! It's the ghostly army of the Great Xia Dynasty!"

"I've received the image from the priest! See for yourself!"

Subsequently, a video was sent to Abe Kosuke's phone.

He clicked on the video.

The scene depicted last night over Tokyo, showing the headless ghost general leading his ghostly army.

The ghost general's sword strike, the dark clouds filling the sky, the unparalleled terrifying pressure.

"Clatter".

The phone slipped from my hand and fell onto the carpet.

Abe Kosuke slumped in his chair, his eyes vacant.

"It's over...it's all over..."

"This is divine punishment... Who have we offended?"

……

Across the ocean.

Beautiful Country, White House.

The unreliable president was sitting in the Oval Office, his brows furrowed into a deep frown.

Sitting in front of him were several of his highest-ranking staff members, as well as an elderly man in a uniform without rank.

That was General Edwin, the mysterious head of Area 51.

"Mr. President, these are images taken by our satellites."

General Edwin handed over an encrypted tablet.

On the screen, the entire process of the ghostly soldiers taking off from the Qinling Mountains and flying all the way to Japan was clearly recorded.

That supernatural power left everyone present feeling utterly powerless.

"My God..."

The unreliable man made the sign of the cross on his chest and shook his head in disbelief.

"Is this really the army of the Great Xia? An army of the dead?"

"Yes, Mr. President."

General Edwin's tone was frighteningly calm.

"We used all available resources to conduct the investigation."

"All the clues point to one source."

"A Daxia Network ID—Ji Xuanyuan."

"And there's that ancient forbidden land deep in the Qinling Mountains of the Great Xia Dynasty."

The unreliable man raised his head, his eyes sharpening.

"Has that Ji Xuanyuan been found?"

"I need to know who he is! I need to know how he controls these monsters!"

A senior cybersecurity official stood up, his face filled with shame.

"I'm sorry, Mr. President."

"We deployed NASA's top hacking team and even used the Prism system."

"but……"

He paused, seemingly finding it difficult to speak.

"We can't find any trace of this ID."

"No IP address, no registration information, not even a data stream."

"It's like... this ID doesn't exist on the internet at all; it's a ghost that appeared out of thin air."

"ghost?"

He gave a cold laugh.

"In this world, there are no ghosts, only technologies we haven't mastered yet."

General Edwin took over the conversation, his expression serious.

"Mr. President, I believe we must reassess the threat level of Great Xia."

"The mythology of the Great Xia Dynasty... may be more than just stories."

"Those ancient eight clans may really exist, and are still secretly controlling the world."

"I suggest that a special task force be established immediately."

"To delve into the mythology and history of the Great Xia Dynasty and unravel the secrets of the Great Conflict and the elixir of immortality."

"If we could master this power..."

A glint of greed flashed in General Edwin's eyes.

"Then, America will be great again."

The meeting lasted for a full three hours.

Ultimately, a top-secret project codenamed "Myth Deciphering" was approved by a unanimous vote.

It's not just the beautiful country.

The Japanese cabinet also made a decision after an emergency meeting.

Although Abe no Koji outwardly denounced Da Xia for deliberately summoning ghosts, in private, his heart was filled with the desire for "immortality."

"We must find Ji Xuanyuan!"

"Bring him to Tokyo at all costs!"

"If we can't find them, we'll go to that deserted village! We'll dig three feet into the ground to uncover the secret!"

Ancient European families, Middle Eastern oil tycoons, and even intelligence organizations from various countries.

At this moment, all eyes were focused on that ancient Eastern country.

The focus was on that desolate village deep in the Qinling Mountains.

……

however.

Ji Xuanyuan was at the center of all this storm.

At this moment, it's as if they've truly vanished into thin air.

That ID has completely disappeared.

No matter how hard the various countries tried, even offering bounties of hundreds of millions of dollars, they could not find a single clue.

On the internet in Daxia, terms like "Ji Xuanyuan" and "forbidden land of the ancient wilderness" became absolute trending searches.

Even the elderly folks who dance in the square are discussing the elixir of immortality.

However, the screen recording of that night's live stream was deliberately and swiftly blocked by the authorities.

Most ordinary people only know that a major event has occurred, but they are unaware of the specific, terrifying details.

This is to prevent more reckless young people from going to their deaths in the Qinling Mountains and causing an even greater disaster.

However, the forum that sparked all the controversy remains incredibly popular.

The server crashed and was repaired, then crashed again.

Hundreds of thousands of netizens flooded in, frantically tagging the now-disappeared ID.

"@Ji Xuanyuan, please explain what exactly the Great Conflict is?"

"@Ji Xuanyuan, does the elixir of immortality really exist? I want to cultivate immortality too!"

"Brothers, anyone want to team up and go to the Forbidden Wasteland again? This time we'll go during the day!"

"Hey upstairs, don't go throwing your life away! Didn't you see the carnage in Tokyo? That's what happens!"

"I have inside information. I heard Tokyo has been locked down. It's terrible..."

The noise on the internet seems to be separated from the real world by a thick barrier.

And deep in the Qinling Mountains.

That ancient forbidden land that drives the whole world crazy.

The entrance to the main house.

Wan Xingwang was lying undignifiedly on that old armchair.

He was holding a bottle of "happy water" that he had found in the backpack that Ren Quanxu and the others had discarded.

"Sizzle—"

He unscrewed the bottle cap, tilted his head back, and took a big gulp.

The sensation of bubbles bursting in his mouth made him squint his eyes in comfort.

"belch--"

Wan Xingwang let out a loud burp.

In his other hand, he held a box of self-heating spicy hot pot, which he ate with great relish.

"The problem is that we didn't bring enough equipment, and we didn't bring any more good food either."

"These guys are so focused on escaping that they don't even want such good stuff."