“May our people never cease to soar, and may our lineage endure forever!”
Ten thousand years ago, he was one of the Seven Ancestors of Humanity, a fierce warrior of formidable strength. In their darkest hour, he carved out a haven for his people and led his tribe to glory.
Ten thousand years later, he awoke in the ancestral mausoleum and returned to the Human Realm he had created with his own hands, still inhabiting an invincible but battered body. He was the last surviving member of the Seven Ancestors. The once-glorious tribe had long since fallen into ruin, beset by enemies on all sides, and the family could barely keep going.
“Ancestor, someone’s at the gates!”
Jiang Chiyun waved his hand. “What are you afraid of? Let’s take them down!”
“Ancestor, the clan’s short on money again.”
Jiang Chiyun grinned. “Come on, I’ll take you to get a few of Ji Xuanyuan’s divine weapons.”
Ji Xuanyuan roared, “Jiang Chiyun, you little brat! Put my stuff down, now!”
