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

Then.

That cold voice that once annihilated demons echoed once more between heaven and earth.

"Dark turmoil is not to be tolerated in this world."

It only has eight characters.

Yet it carried an overwhelming and unparalleled confidence.

It was as if they were declaring to the whole world that as long as the Ji family existed,

This darkness will not be allowed to touch the human world.

As the sound faded.

The enormous, all-encompassing hand slowly dissipated.

The black fog completely disappeared.

The long-awaited sunshine once again shines on the banks of the Luo River.

Warmth has returned to the world.

People on both sides of the strait stood frozen in place.

They stared at the now clear sky, their minds blank.

The feeling of surviving a disaster was so intense that they couldn't react for a moment.

"He...he survived?"

"We're not dead? All those ghostly things are gone?"

After a moment of deathly silence.

It was a heart-wrenching wail.

That was an emotional release following extreme fear.

The timid ones had already collapsed to the ground, their pants soaked with urine, but they didn't care about shame, they just gasped for breath.

Many others, however, were drenched in cold sweat.

They deeply understood what it meant to be close to death and what it meant to be saved by God.

An elderly man with white hair stood up shakily.

He stared in the direction where the large hand had disappeared, his cloudy old eyes already brimming with tears.

"That's... a miracle!"

The old man's voice was trembling.

He knew nothing of the dark turmoil or the cultivation world.

In his eyes, this was the work of demons, and then the gods appeared to save people from suffering.

Suddenly his knees buckled, and he knelt heavily on the ground.

He kowtowed deeply towards the direction of the Dragon Gate, the direction from which the Ji family had made their move.

"Thank the gods for their protection! Thank you, ancestor of the Ji family!"

The old man kowtowed and cried out.

This scene was incredibly moving.

The survivors around them, regardless of age or gender, were all feeling a strange sense of inspiration.

"thump!"

"thump!"

The sounds of knees hitting the ground echoed repeatedly.

One, ten, a hundred, ten thousand...

In just a few minutes.

On both banks of the Luo River, a dark mass of people knelt down.

Tens of thousands of people expressed their heartfelt gratitude in the most primitive and devout way.

"Thank you for saving my life!"

"May the gods protect us and keep us safe and sound!"

The prayers coalesced into a massive wave of sound that soared into the sky.

Faced with such a terrifying natural disaster, the power of mortals is far too insignificant.

They could only place their hopes on that powerful being who could protect them for a long time.

This scene was broadcast across the entire internet through countless live streams.

Normally, there would definitely be trolls jumping out to mock this as feudal superstition and servility.

But today.

Surprisingly, the comments in the live stream were surprisingly harmonious.

No one mocked or insulted them.

Because everyone knew that if it weren't for the intervention of a powerful member of the Ji family...

The banks of the Luo River have long been turned into a living hell.

These tens of thousands of lives have long since become the souls lost in that black fog.

Kneeling in gratitude is a tradition of the Xia people to repay kindness.

"It brought tears to my eyes. These are the guardians of our Great Xia!"

"The so-called Ten Great Families of the West are nothing but a joke in front of the Ji Family!"

"The powerful figure from the Ji family suppressed the dark turmoil with just a wave of his hand. What level of cultivation does that require?"

"I used to envy rich people, thinking that money could make the devil turn the millstone. Now I realize that the world has so many hidden secrets."

"Money is nothing compared to true power!"

The comments section was buzzing with discussion, and the buzz was unprecedented.

Everyone is marveling that Great Xia is the safest country when disaster strikes.

Those so-called modern technologies are utterly fragile and vulnerable in the face of mythical power.

Many people have begun to excitedly imagine the possibilities.

"The era of great strife is truly upon us! Ji Xuanyuan didn't lie to us!"

"We are all of pure Great Xia bloodline, so is it possible for us to cultivate immortality as well?"

"I want to cultivate immortality! I want to defy fate and change my destiny! I also want to protect all living beings like the powerful figures of the Ji family!"

While everyone was still discussing the Ji family's divine power...

On a muddy, shallow beach in the Luo River.

A slightly disheveled figure was secretly wading through the mud, heading towards the dilapidated Dragon Gate.

It's Zhang Xing.

His body was covered in black mud, and his face was filthy.

But his eyes were unusually firm.

"Young man! Where are you going? It's dangerous there!"

Someone on the shore kindly reminded him.

"Don't go in! What if the black fog hasn't completely dissipated?"

Zhang Xing acted as if he hadn't heard, his steps continuing without pause.

He clutched the phone he had just picked up tightly in his hand.

The live streaming equipment has restored the signal.

"I'm going to find Brother Xu."

Zhang Xing gritted his teeth and muttered to himself.

"He went in and never came out; his fate is now unknown."

"He's my good brother, I can't leave him there alone."

"I want to see him alive or dead!"

This is Zhang Xing's obsession.

Even if it's a den of dragons and tigers ahead, he has to go and brave it.

As he approached the Dragon Gate step by step.

Ren Quanxu's live stream, which was originally black, was restored to normal after the equipment was restarted.

Countless viewers who were following the story flooded in instantly.

The number of online users is soaring at an alarming rate.

One million...five million...ten million!

Everyone wanted to see what the inside of the Dragon Gate had become.

Zhang Xing finally stepped through the Dragon Gate.

He stumbled and trudged into the ruins of the already dilapidated palace.

When he saw what was in front of him, he froze on the spot.

My heart sank even further.

awful.

It's too awful.

The once magnificent palace is now nothing but rubble.

The ground was covered with rubble and broken stone pillars.

Everywhere was pitted and uneven from the corrosion caused by the black fog, emitting a foul, burnt smell.

These are clearly traces left behind by the dark turmoil just now.

"Brother Xu... Brother Xu, where are you?"

Zhang Xing's voice, choked with sobs, echoed through the desolate ruins.

He held up his live-streaming equipment, his eyes anxiously scanning the ruins.

Sudden.

His gaze was fixed on something not far ahead.

There seems to be a person standing there.

Zhang Xing subconsciously raised the equipment and pointed the lens in that direction.

next second.

Not only Zhang Xing, but also the more than ten million viewers in the live broadcast room were stunned.

Amidst the devastation of ruins, atop piles of unknown demon corpses, lay a scene of utter chaos.

A figure stood quietly.

He was a young man dressed in ancient Chinese clothing.

His clothes were a spotless white robe embroidered with golden cloud patterns, which fluttered gently in the breeze.

He wore an exquisite gold mask on his face.

Only the lower half of her face was visible, with beautiful lines and jade-like skin.

He stood there quietly, his hands behind his back.

It was as if the mountains of corpses and seas of blood around him had nothing to do with him.