But he was no primitive.
This one was named Mo, and he came from the Immortal Soil Beyond the Domains, the Northern Heaven Ancient Desert Great Wasteland.
He was powerfully built, barefoot and draped in beast hides, his skin gleaming with a bronze luster, as though the winds and sands of time had ground it into iron and stone.
His thick black hair fell to his shoulders, his brows were carved like blades, and his eyes were like hawks. Within his gaze lay the solitude and savagery of the Great Wasteland.
Though he was stunned, he stood as still as a mountain. A ferocious ancient aura faintly emanated from his entire body, as if he were an ancient war god who had walked out from the depths of a desert.
Most strangely, he bore none of the Forehead Pattern of Law possessed by the Immortal Realm's Innate Lifeforms. He instead looked like a mortal lifeform of the Immortal Realm.
At this moment, he gazed at the immortal mountain rising from nothingness, his mind violently shaken and unable to calm for a long time. This was a great divine power practitioner creating things, the Great Dao demonstrating its methods—true might that grasped the power of the Immortal Realm beyond life and death.
He murmured softly, and for the first time, an indescribable realization surfaced in his eyes:
"Open mountains and forge veins, seize the authority of creation... If Heaven and Earth can create mountains, then why can the fleshly body not shape itself? If I use my body as a furnace, temper my flesh, forge the Dao in Heaven's stead, and evolve undyingness from within... then one day, I may rise against fate. Borrow neither Heaven nor Earth; with only this body of mine, I will illuminate the Big Dipper and