In the heartland of Great Tang.
There stood a mountain named Five Immortals.
Clouds and mist shrouded it year-round, with radiant clouds filling the sky.
The mountain's vegetation flourished, remaining green through all four seasons.
Even the most delicate peach and plum trees bloomed there without ever fading.
The origins of Five Immortals Mountain made for quite a tale.
Let us turn back the years by several hundred thousand.
In those days, this land was not yet called Great Tang.
It did not even have a proper dynasty.
There were only tribes that ate flesh raw and drank blood, scattered across the wilderness.
Nor was this mountain called Five Immortals Mountain.
It was merely a nameless peak.
A simple altar stood on its ridge, enshrining no legitimate gods or buddhas, but a few clay figures barely half a person's height.
The tribes beneath the mountain had casually molded them to pray for favorable winds and timely rains, and to avoid being carried off by venomous creatures and savage beasts.
Only when someone's household suffered a calamity would they bring a little grain and knock their heads against the ground before the altar.
But these clay figures had been casually fashioned in the first place. How could they draw the protection of a true god?
Instead, they attracted five beasts.
How difficult was it for ordinary beasts to awaken intelligence?
Only those born with a special bloodline, or those blessed by fortune, stood a chance.
Yet the Incense-Fire Path happened to offer a shortcut.
Though mortal thought-power was as faint as fireflies, it gathered into a river, allowing those five beasts to awaken intelligence almost by accident.
Once the Five Poisons awakened intelligence, they only grew more brazen.
They began manifesting miracles, summoning wind and rain, banishing plagues, and even keeping