Chapter 21: Catastrophe of the World, A New Era

Jiang Ping felt as if he were watching a disaster film like ‘2012’ or ‘Deep Impact’ as the entire Original World descended into apocalyptic chaos.

Volcanoes erupted in succession, destabilizing the crust, causing chunks of land to split apart, with endless oceans surging toward the fissures like rampaging water dragons, widening the cracks in the earth and pulling land fragments further apart.

The ocean swept across the land, overwhelming countless creatures in an instant with towering waves. The Human King and the Ant Queen gathered their forces to resist this cataclysm.

Yet, even their immense strength was useless against such world-shaking power. The surviving five Divine Guardians rushed to the Ant Queen’s location at once.

Behind them, countless troops were swallowed by the torrent, resulting in innumerable casualties, with the land filled with wails of despair.

The severely injured Human King directed the humans to take refuge, but this disaster came far too suddenly, too quickly!

Millions perished within half an hour, many of whom were renowned extraordinary beings.

“Human King, you need to get out of here! If you don’t leave now, it might be too late!” a human warrior urged.

With a pale face, the Human King suppressed the trembling earth. If he left now, the ground would immediately fracture, and no one here would be able to escape.

With great care, the Human King handed over the Spear of Destiny to the warrior. “Take this heirloom and lead our kin away quickly!”

Others wanted to persuade him further, but the Human King had made up his mind. Besides, the scene left no room for hesitation; every minute saw hundreds of thousands of souls lost.

On this day, the Ninth Generation Human King set himself to suppress the earth for two whole hours, buying precious time for the retreat of humanity. In the end, he became a monumental testament, consumed by the molten lava and sinking deep into the earth.

Jiang Ping could see that this last Human King was no weaker than any previous monarchs. Even in death, he stood defiant in the center of the land, refusing to bow his proud back.

In the midst of the crimson sea of lava, drifting land fragments, and countless fleeing beings, the solitary silhouette stood out. Jiang Ping felt a wave of mixed emotions; he knew this scene was something he could never forget.

Genesis updated its log again: In the chronicle of the Original World, the end of the Middle Era, the Great War of the Myriad Races, the sacrifice of the Divine Tree, the collapse of the Supercontinent, the heavens and earth breaking apart, and the world fracturing beyond repair.

The ninth generation of Human Kings came to an end, as the devouring ants that had long inhabited the underground faced significant losses and could never regain their former glory.

The myriad races dwindled, the remaining survivors scattered in corners of the world, surrounded by endless oceans, making communication nearly impossible. Civilization regressed, and the world entered a new chapter.

“Clap!”

Jiang Ping suddenly closed Genesis, shutting his eyes to savor the grandeur of this era. Undoubtedly, the Middle Era was magnificent beyond compare, offering rewards that exceeded the entirety of the previous eras: the Elixir of Immortality, three top-tier cultivation methods, and the energy feedback yet to be settled.

Though his time today was short, Jiang Ping felt as if he had traversed the vast tapestry of one era, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes in contemplation.

Gradually, he fell asleep, dreaming once more of the youthful Wuma. Back then, he had just received his divine insight, brimming with vitality, and in his later years, he always longed to see himself again, but sadly, he never appeared.

At that time, Jiang Ping had thought that even the first generation Human King Wuma, as a mighty ruler, would turn to him for guidance on the path of immortality in his final moments.

In this dream, Jiang Ping learned that Wuma merely wished to sincerely thank him while also inquiring whether he had completed the task he had given him back then.

Looking at the phantom before him, Jiang Ping, though aware it was just a dream, nodded with a smile. “You surpassed my expectations. I only gave you the seed, but it was your achievement to let it sprout into a towering tree; without you, there would be no later dominance of the human race over the land.”

Upon hearing Jiang Ping’s answer, Wuma’s ghost seemed relieved, transforming into countless specks of light that dissipated into the darkness.

Afterward, Jiang Ping also met Lianshan and other kings of various races. Most of them were the strongest of the Middle Era or the top scholars from other domains. They all left a significant mark in history, a quintessence of this era.

Jiang Ping waited for a long time, but he still didn’t see the one little rascal he wished to wait for.

Recalling her several reincarnations from the past, Jiang Ping became pensive.

The rooster crowed, heralding dawn.

As the sun emerged to illuminate all things, Jiang Ping awoke feeling refreshed, as if infused with boundless energy. He stretched his fingers and snapped.

“Crack!”

Suddenly, a sound echoed through the air, and after absorbing the vast energies from the end of the Middle Era’s cataclysm, Jiang Ping underwent another transformation, unable to restrain a smile. “This feedback is far richer than before; it seems the lives lost this time were not only numerous but also of high quality.”

This was merely the feedback from a single era’s catastrophe. If an entire world reached its end, how much surprise could a cataclysm bring? Filled with beautiful hopes for the future, Jiang Ping overlooked his meal and hurried to check the current state of the Original World.

He was startled by what he saw: the Original World, its oceans dividing the land, no longer unified after the collapse of the Supercontinent. Land fragments now drifted like islands in the endless ocean.

Powerful clans were fragmenting, making the largest advantage of the humans vanish. Civilization began to decline, and many were left behind on different continents, never again able to intersect throughout their lifetimes.

The former dominance of the earth, the splendid rule over the Supercontinent, the nine-hundred-meter statue of the Creator, the king of myriad races, and those unimaginable alchemical weapons could only be reminisced in the distant historical murals.

When history turns into stories, stories into legends, and legends into myths.

Almost everyone believed that the Supercontinent was merely a myth, and the Creator a fantasy of ancient humanity.

The once-mighty kings who dominated the world had long vanished into the annals of time!

Even the heirloom—the Spear of Destiny—had disappeared in the great migration of that year. How could modern humans believe in distant history? Jiang Ping squinted his eyes and began using the powers of the Creator to scan the world.

In an instant, every corner of the heavens and earth appeared in Jiang Ping’s view as streams of data poured into his mind. If it weren’t for Genesis assisting him, the overwhelming amount of information could have made his head explode in that brief moment.

Jiang Ping saw the Spear of Destiny lying quietly in the sunken ship deep in the ocean, seemingly lost amidst the chaos of that year.

The Spear of Destiny was made from quite ordinary materials, just a spear Jiang Ping casually created; yet, it contained a trace of divine authority, making it indestructible and imperishable.

“Has the Spear of Destiny fulfilled its historical mission?”

Looking at the spear deep in the endless ocean, Jiang Ping did not intervene to bring it back to light, letting it shine once more in the world.

Perhaps disappearing forever in the long river of history is a beautiful outcome in itself.

“Huh? The Ant Queen Belsha hasn’t died in the passage of time?” Jiang Ping turned his gaze to the Stone of Truth and discovered a marvelous scene.

The Ant Queen, now covered in wounds, had a frail and decaying body, emanating a breath of death. Her murky compound eyes stared intently at the Stone before her.

Years of study had yielded no results, just as before. She had survived the cataclysm at the end of the Middle Era, but she still couldn’t escape the grasp of time.

She had tried every method for longevity, even discovering and reconstructing the formula for the long-lost Elixir of Immortality belonging to the humans. Yet, despite living for so long, she sensed death was just a step away! “This is so frustrating!” flashed through the Ant Queen’s mind, followed by a self-deprecating thought: “Perhaps I am now the oldest living being in this world.”

Struck by the cataclysm, the devouring ants were also divided into countless fragments. As the Ant Queen Belsha aged further, the once-subdued ant clans burst forth, giving rise to numerous ant queens across the fragmented continents.

As time passed, Belsha had long lost her ability to reproduce; even the other queens were unaware that this ancient progenitor still lived. However, the Ant Queen Belsha was unwilling to die fruitlessly in the passage of time, thus she continued to struggle.

She closed her eyes once again to preserve her faint life force.