Seven was a mysterious number, one that represented a certain will.
Seven Calabash Brothers, Seven Swords Descend from Heaven Mountain, seven gods descending to the Lower Realm, seven aliens arriving on Earth...
Whether through luck or something else, all seven aliens passed through Earth's defenses and landed safely.
They were injured, but at least they had not died in the sky.
It was a small miracle. The seven aliens, at least, were delighted.
Eight of them had come, one after another, and all eight had landed without dying along the way. What did that mean?
Fortune clung to them, blessings stretched far ahead, and they were Heaven's chosen!
"Earth, here we are! This is where we'll rise and claim our Sage Position!"
"Today, we begin our ascent to sainthood and become ancestors!"
"Hahahaha! Fortune is on my side, the tide is on my side! This forsaken land will be our starting point as we rise to the summit of the Starry Sky and endure through the Eternal Ages!"
"Nothing can stop us!"
The seven Alien Lifeforms were exhilarated. They descended swiftly toward the surface, watched by every nation.
"The direction they're falling... is it the East again?"
"Yes. We've calculated it. Unless something unexpected happens, all seven will land in the East."
"Haha! God is watching over us. Let them fight the Easterners!"
The seven aliens drew closer and closer to the surface. At last, they landed with a thunderous crash.
They had landed right in a long River in the East.
The whole world watched, eager to see what the aliens would do next. At the same time, every nation assessed their strength.
Strength always came first.
The nations reached a startling conclusion: these seven aliens were far stronger than the Alien Bird that had arrived not long ago.