"Hehe... when emotions got the better of me, I really took on a miserable job that would drain both heart and mind."
Chen Yang laughed bitterly to himself, silently poking fun at his own decision.
In his previous life, he had heard that famous meme: "Trust in the wisdom of future generations."
He had only found it amusing at the time. Who would have thought that such a thing would truly fall upon him now?
Of the Dao lineages still surviving today, more than ninety-nine percent had been passed down from the earliest batch of gods, after they established the Divine Court.
The vast majority of Divine Path creatures had also always followed in the footsteps left behind by their predecessors. The upper limit of a lineage determined the upper limit of their cultivation and Dao attainment.
Only a tiny number of later generations, relying on extraordinary talent, had shattered the shackles of their original lineages. Standing upon the shoulders of giants, they pushed a hundred-foot pole one step further and elevated the divine arts and lineages they cultivated.
For instance, the Dream Realm Path and the Path of Fortune mentioned earlier had initially been nothing more than high-rank divine arts.
Only after some god who cultivated those paths pierced through the mist and comprehended the road ahead were they elevated into True God lineages.
Those capable of such a feat were all peerless geniuses seen perhaps once in ten thousand years, supreme figures who could leave their names in the annals of the Divine Dao.
Yet what Chen Yang needed to do was far more difficult than that.
Looking across the entire history of the Divine Dao, along this long river that had flowed for untold ages, only two gods had ever accomplished the earth-shaking feat of founding a