Ten thousand years was a long stretch of time for humanity, but to Zhao Cheng, it was no different from a fleeting instant.
Without realizing it, he had already reached such heights. His way of thinking had long ceased to be that of a mayfly-born species; he possessed the mentality a long-lived species ought to have.
At the same time, he had not become detached or emotionless after being scoured by the long years. His emotions remained as vivid and alive as they had been when he was sixteen.
Such a mind was undoubtedly what true strength looked like—forever alive, forever filled with the drive to advance, never losing the spiritual strength to move forward beneath the weathering brought by the years.
The Ancestral Star had changed beyond recognition.
Ten thousand years had turned seas into mulberry fields.
Yet the Ancestral Star's complete transformation had not come about because of time, but because of the fall of the Human Path Federation.
Eleven thousand years ago, a soul from another world descended upon this world carrying a treasure.
But unlike in the stories, he did not rely on his cheat to command the river of stars and attain Pure Yang. Instead, an accident occurred, and he perished midway. The treasure he brought was picked up three thousand years later by a youth who had grown up in the Wasteland.
Without external threats, internal strife arose.
In just a hundred years, the youth rose to power through the treasure, only to perish midway once again.
They said trouble never came thrice. If there were a third time, the treasure itself would be destroyed and merge into the world.
In a sense, the deaths of the first and second generations were also related to the world's instincts.
The third-generation protagonist was no ordinary