I am the sacred tree, evergreen for eternity.

The day of the grand sacrifice.

Before dawn, the royal city awoke.

As the first rays of dawn crossed the eastern mountain ridge, torches in the city had already formed a continuous line.

The air was filled with the smoky aroma of burning pine resin, mixed with the sweetness of freshly steamed corn cakes and the rich fragrance of fruit wine just opened from a jar.

The city gates were wide open, and crowds thronged the area.

The children weaved through the crowd, clutching wild berries strung together with straw ropes, chasing each other, their laughter like the tinkling of bells along the way.

"By the Tree God..."

Prayers of faith rose and fell among the crowd, like an unaccompanied chorus.

The area around the central altar was already packed with people.

The altar was built of bluestone and was several feet high. Each step was covered with exquisite spiritual patterns.

The area was piled high with colorful cloths, bone ornaments, and fine grains offered by the tribespeople, layer upon layer, stretching from the base of the platform to both sides of the steps.

Qi stood at the top of the altar. Today he was wearing a dark blue linen robe with a woven leather belt around his waist, making him look exceptionally solemn.

His gaze swept across the audience, some faces familiar, some unfamiliar, some young, some old…

Five hundred thousand people, a century of history, a vast territory—all condensed in this moment, condensed in his sight.

Qi raised both arms, palms open, and respectfully worshipped the branches of the tree god.

"By the Tree God."

Aura swirled around him, carrying his voice to every corner of the altar.

"You gave us names, you gave us words, you gave us the Way."

"You never give alms, you only sow seeds."

"You never serve me, you only guide me."

The crowd below the stage began to chant along, their voices surging in from all directions, forming a deep, resonant river.

"By the Tree God."

"May the Xia Kingdom live on forever."

"Humanity will never perish."

Amidst the chanting of the crowd, the verdant elm tree swayed gently in the spiritual light, as if in response.

May the Tree God bless the Xia Kingdom, bringing favorable weather and abundant harvests, and ensuring its eternal prosperity.

Tens of thousands of people chanted the final prayer in unison, their voices so powerful they shook the clouds above them.

Right at this moment.

Yu stepped out from the crowd.

His position was on the east side of the altar, only a dozen steps away from Qi.

Today he was wearing a dark gray animal skin coat and a short knife at his waist, looking the same as usual.

Qi noticed his son's actions and watched him walk towards him. His steps were not fast, but each step was steady.

A faint smile even appeared on Qi's face—on the day of the grand ceremony, the family time was perfect for setting an example for the clansmen.

Yu walked up to Qi, but did not bow and beat his chest as usual.

He opened his arms and embraced his father.

Qi Wei was slightly taken aback.

Yu is not a child who likes physical contact; he has rarely initiated hugs since he was little.

Qi didn't think much of it. He raised his hand, wanting to pat his son's back.

Then, a whispered sentence came softly into his ear:

"I'm sorry... Father."

The next second, a sharp, stabbing pain shot from his abdomen to Qi's nerves.

He looked down and saw a dark wooden dagger embedded in his abdomen, with only the rough hilt sticking out.

Qi's first thought wasn't even anger or horror, but rather a sense of bewilderment.

Why?

Yu was still holding him, her arms still around him, but her whole body was trembling uncontrollably.

"I don't want to hurt you..."

"I just... have to get it."

Yu knelt beside Qi, his forehead pressed against the ground, his shoulders heaving violently.

Qi lay on the ground; the wound on his abdomen was not fatal, but the strange wooden dagger was constantly emitting a poison.

He was conscious, but his inner light was locked inside his body and he could not use it. He could only stare blankly at his crying son.

In an instant, the riot began.

The second-generation disciples guarding the key points around the altar seemed to have received the same signal and simultaneously drew their weapons.

The weapons were varied, but they had one thing in common: the blades were coated with a grayish-white grease that did not shimmer with any spiritual light.

They would sneak up on their comrades from the weakest corner of the defense.

The guards, who were of commoner origin, were completely unprepared. Before they could even react to what was happening, their arms, backs, and thighs were slashed by the blade.

The wound wasn't deep, but it was enough.

The grayish-white grease seeped into the bloodstream, and the numbing toxins spread throughout the body in just a few breaths.

The light faded, their limbs went limp, and one by one, the guards collapsed around the altar.

Qi stood on the north side of the altar, his reaction much faster than the others—

The instant the dramatic change occurred, his spiritual light exploded within him, shooting towards the altar like an arrow released from a bow.

A figure blocked his way.

It also shone with the light of the Bright Spirit Realm, only its color was somewhat gloomy.

Yu entangled Qi, and although his brilliance was far less dazzling than Qi's, it was enough to buy him some time.

On the other side of the altar, Xuan stood up from the stone chair. His aura as a peak cultivator of the Seeking Law pressed down like a mountain, distorting the surrounding air.

"presumptuous!"

The murderous intent accumulated over decades of fighting was like an invisible knife, slashing straight at those second-generation scions who were committing murder.

The madmen were suppressed by this aura, their movements suddenly froze, and some even went weak in the knees and collapsed to the ground.

however--

A sweet, cloying, and intensely sweet aroma suddenly filled the air.

Ashoka.

Xuan's spiritual light fluctuated violently, like a flame bending under the wind.

His consciousness momentarily wavered—

The world before him distorted slightly, as if he had returned to the Valley of the Divine Tree, where the departed members of his clan smiled and waved at him from the foot of the Tree God…

The other elders almost simultaneously fell into the illusion; having lost too much in the vicissitudes of time, they instinctively drew closer to the beautiful dream.

Wangyoulang slowly walked up the steps, his steps steady, like a composed spectator.

The chaos, fighting, and shouting around the altar seemed to have nothing to do with it.

There was no murderous intent emanating from it.

The illusion created by the Worry-Free Grass has a very weak effect on powerful cultivators in the Seeking the Law stage; even the slightest stimulation is enough to awaken them.

But that brief pause was enough.

It went straight toward the sacred tree bathed in spiritual light, and no one could stop it.

Those guards who tried to approach it were already dizzy and staggered from the cloying fragrance.

The hood slipped off in the wind, and the crooked mouth on that wooden face was slowly widening into a grin.

It wasn't laughter; it was something more primal—greed, desire, obsession.

Wangyoulang raised his right hand and tore off his linen glove.

The bare, withered hands, pale white and cracked, resembled branches stripped of their leaves in winter.

Then, his palm split open—like a mouth, slowly opening from the middle to both sides, revealing dense fangs inside.

"finally……"

Its voice was hoarse, carrying a kind of suppressed, almost frantic satisfaction.

"If I eat you... I'll... transcend..."