Bones as pens, blood as ink—the long history of the Human Race

On the lands of the Central Plains, this small-scale battle between the Demon Race and the Witch Race ultimately ended in victory for the Witch Race.

The moment another Witch Race warrior arrived, the balance of battle had completely tipped.

It was an even more burly witch, wielding a massive axe wrapped in black Sha Qi.

His arrival was like the last straw that broke the camel's back.

The two Witch Race powerhouses joined forces, their Sha Qi soaring into the heavens and laws roaring. Though that Demon Race Primordial Unity Golden Immortal possessed abilities that reached the skies, he could not withstand the berserk assault of two Witch Race warriors of the same realm.

In the end, the Demon Race Primordial Unity Golden Immortal's demon body was torn apart alive. Even his Primordial Spirit failed to escape and was ground into nothing by the boundless Sha Qi.

The remaining Demon Race Golden Immortals also fell one after another beneath that destructive force, leaving neither corpses nor bones behind.

Yet when the last demon turned to ash amid the Sha Qi and the dust finally settled, the two Witch Race powerhouses merely cast a cold glance over the devastated battlefield. Then they put away their weapons and turned to leave, as though they had casually cleared away some unsightly weeds.

From beginning to end, they had not spared so much as an extra glance toward the native Central Plains.

Whether spirits transformed from plants and Stubborn Stones or human ancestors like Yuan Ming, all were as insignificant as dust before the Witch Race.

In the eyes of these Witch Race members, who inherited Pangu's legacy and were born with the power to command laws, aside from one another and the Demon Race competing with them for Heaven and Earth, all living beings in the Primordial World were mere ants.

From the watchtower of the Human Race city, Yuan Ming and several clan elders witnessed the entire brief yet brutal battle.

One relatively young clan elder watched the Witch Race's retreating figures, his voice carrying both unwillingness and lingering fear. "Damn it... they just left like that!!"

Yuan Ming's gaze was deep as he looked upon the scorched earth plowed by berserk power, where fluctuations of laws still lingered. He slowly spoke, his voice calm yet carrying a bone-piercing chill.

"The Human Race is still far too weak. In the Primordial World, strength is revered above all else."

The aftermath of the great battle finally subsided, but the wounds it left behind cut deep to the bone.

The Human Race of the Central Plains had paid an unimaginable price.

Nearly half of them had fallen!

One had to know that after several thousand years of multiplying and thriving, the Human Race of the Central Plains had already grown from the original million Yuan Ming had brought with him into a vast population of over a hundred million. They had spread throughout the Central Plains, establishing countless villages and towns.

Yet after this battle, prosperity had withered, and living beings lay devastated. Upon the land that had once bustled with life, only broken walls and silent corpses remained.

Sixty million!

Behind that cold number were mountains of corpses, blood flowing into rivers, countless shattered families, and heart-rending cries.

The settlements that had once thronged with voices now seemed empty and deathly silent.

The only thing worth being thankful for was that after such a brutal culling, most of those who survived were Primordial Humans.

Relying on greater strength and tougher bodies, they had fought for a sliver of life amid utter desperation.

Beneath the grief and exhaustion in their eyes burned even fiercer hatred and an unyielding will.

Yuan Ming stood in the square before the Ancestral Temple. This place had once been used to preach the Dao and impart knowledge, but it was now packed with the wounded. The air was thick with the bitter scent of medicinal herbs mingled with blood.

He summoned Hua Qi, now the second strongest expert of the Human Race after himself.

At this moment, Hua Qi's robes were stained with blood, and his face bore unconcealable grief and weariness. Yet he still forced himself to remain alert and bowed to receive his orders.

"Hua Qi!" Yuan Ming's voice carried a trace of hoarseness, yet it was incomparably steady, like a pillar that steadied the sea, soothing the fearful hearts of all present.

"Organize all Postnatal Realm clansmen who can still move. Prioritize repairing the city walls, clearing the ruins, and rebuilding our homes."

"Yes, Ancestor Yuan Ming!" Hua Qi answered in a deep voice.

Yuan Ming nodded slightly, then swept his sleeve.

In an instant, treasure light shot into the sky above the square, and spiritual energy billowed!

Dozens of spiritual treasures of varying forms, each radiating Innate Dao charm, floated in the air. There was Frost Xirang, smooth and warm as jade; Void Divine Stone, glittering with starlight; Innate Yimu Essence, brimming with vigorous life...

These were all treasures he had plundered from Purple Abode Province in the past. He normally treasured them beyond measure, yet now he did not begrudge them in the slightest.

"Distribute these to the Innate Realm clansmen who possess cultivation talent."

Yuan Ming's gaze swept over those faces that had performed outstandingly in battle and possessed immense potential. "Tell them that grief is useless. Only strength can protect all that we have left, and only strength can console the heroic spirits of the departed."

Looking at these Innate spiritual treasures that would make even Golden Immortals green with envy, Hua Qi was deeply shaken. He understood even more clearly that Ancestor Yuan Ming intended to pour out every resource and spare no cost to nurture more powerhouses for the Human Race!

The proper arrangements eased Hua Qi's heart somewhat, but then he thought of an even more troublesome and heartbreaking problem.

He stepped forward, his voice choked with suppressed sobs. "Ancestor Yuan Ming, the bodies of those fallen clansmen... they are scattered across the wilds in numbers too vast. How should we gather and bury them?"

This truly was a difficult problem.

Hearing this, Yuan Ming cast his gaze toward the distant battlefield strewn with corpses, and his eyes became incomparably profound.

He gently patted Hua Qi's solid shoulder. His tone was calm, yet it contained an unquestionable force. "Leave this to me."

His words were brief, yet they seemed to bear the weight of a thousand jun.

Looking into Ancestor Yuan Ming's eyes, calm on the surface yet seeming to contain a storm beneath, Hua Qi's heart inexplicably settled.

He believed that Ancestor Yuan Ming would surely find a way to grant these warriors, who had shed their last drops of blood for the Human Race, their final peace and dignity.

Hua Qi asked no more. He gave a deep bow, turned, and went off to work.

Yuan Ming took a single step, and his figure was already above the city.

He looked down upon this land soaked in blood and slowly closed his eyes.

Yuan Ming slowly raised a hand, and the vast, majestic power of a Golden Immortal surged forth, blanketing the four directions.

The dark red soil saturated with the blood of countless Human Race warriors and mingled with their unyielding will seemed to receive an invisible summons. It peeled away from the earth and gathered before him.

Yuan Ming pressed both hands through the air, drawing upon the Wutu Great Dao Law, the most heavy and substantial law between Heaven and Earth. Invisible Dao patterns intertwined in the void like a furnace of Heaven and Earth, repeatedly hammering and fusing that weighty blood-red color and will.

Gradually, an immense stele, majestic and ancient, its entire body a somber blood-red, took shape amid the roaring of the laws!

It towered into the clouds, emanating a desolate yet tragic aura, as though it bore the memory of an entire race's bitter suffering and brilliance.

There were no inscriptions upon the stele recording achievements, nor were there any ornate carvings.

Only on its front was a single enormous, deeply carved character, seemingly etched with every last ounce of strength, occupying the entire face of the monument—

It was the character "Human"!

One sweeping stroke, one downward stroke—each carried the force of a thousand jun. Its structure was simple, yet it contained a will that stood tall between Heaven and Earth and would rather break than bend!

With supreme divine power, Yuan Ming steadily placed this heavy blood-red monument at the very center of the Human Race's territory. It was like a pillar that steadied the sea, and like an unyielding spine.

He turned around to face the countless clansmen below, survivors of calamity whose eyes held grief, indignation, and confusion. His voice was not loud, yet it was like a great bell and a mighty drum, ringing clearly into the depths of every soul.

"Clansmen!"

He raised a hand and pointed at the sole character upon the stele, his blazing gaze sweeping over every face.

"Look carefully! This is the Human in our Human Race!"

His voice suddenly rose, carrying a force that pierced through time and space as it resounded between Heaven and Earth.

"What is a human—one who stands tall beneath Heaven and upon Earth is human!"