Stitched Behemoth

Fu Gui ultimately failed to explain herself clearly.

Ye Xiu did not particularly care.

This former ruler of the Snow Mountain Range had lost every shred of spirit anyway. Starfire's strength had forcibly shattered him, leaving none of his former pride behind. And as his tribe's history gradually faded away, even the reason to hold fast had vanished.

That was why one's roots were such an important thing.

Still, these foreign races had truly been cursed with rotten luck.

Over the past tens of millions of years, everyone on Blue Star had originally lived as equals, each tending to their own little patch of land. Then, in a single storm, the fish turned into dragons. Once humanity developed its brains, it began planting flags across the globe, forcing every other race to live by its whim.

They had finally endured until the great change of heaven and earth. They had thought that, by relying on their bodies to take the first step, they could evolve civilizations of their own. Yet in the end, after merely twenty or thirty years, the humans who had been driven into the skies came back down again.

To be honest, Ye Xiu thought highly of humanity's future on Blue Star.

Even without him, the resurgence of spiritual energy was an indisputable fact that would soon arrive. Those so-called superpowers had once been beyond his understanding, but now they seemed to be nothing more than another mutation of spiritual energy.

Though they represented different paths of evolution, countless roads ultimately led to the same destination.

The Kabbalah Order's path, if Ye Xiu had not truly found the whole thing impossible to accept, could have counted as a viable route as well.

The snowy night was silent. Ye Xiu's gaze pierced through layer upon layer of mountains