101: Chapter 101 The Sixth Clan

He watched the Rakshasa Generals slaughtering each other in the arena, noting their peak Rank Four auras and the fighting intent in their eyes.

"Do you want to fight me?" he asked.

The Rakshasa Generals fell silent for a second, then simultaneously revealed ferocious smiles.

"Yes."

Zhao Tiezhu laughed.

He stood up from his throne and stretched his muscles and bones, his joints emitting a series of crackling sounds.

"Then come."

That day, Zhao Tiezhu faced twelve Rakshasa Generals alone.

The battle lasted for a full day and night.

When the last general was pinned to the ground by Zhao Tiezhu, thunderous cheers erupted from the arena stands.

Zhao Tiezhu was covered in blood, but his smile was brighter than ever.

"Good," he said. "You are finally qualified to protect the Rakshasa Clan with me."

That day, the twelve Rakshasa Generals broke through simultaneously.

Early Rank Five.

The Rakshasa Clan now had thirteen Rank Five powerhouses.

Year 700.

The population of the Rakshasa Clan grew to six hundred thousand.

Their territory expanded from the northern part of the New Era Ruins to one-third of the entire ruins. Five cities became twenty, each with a complete defense system, training system, and prayer system.

The social structure of the Rakshasa became more complex.

Besides warriors and generals, they began to have their own priests.

Rakshasa Priests.

They were not priests of the Netherworld Church, but the Rakshasa Clan's own priests. They did not wear grey-white robes, but dark-gold battle armor. They did not kneel to pray, but stood and war-shouted. They did not spread the doctrine of karma, but the belief of "fighting for the Netherworld."

The ranks of the Rakshasa Priests were generally high, with the lowest being Rank Four and the highest reaching mid-Rank Five.

Their way of praying was unique. Every prayer was a battle, and every battle was a prayer. They slaughtered in the arena, charged on the battlefield, and bled during training.

Every drop of blood was an offering to the Netherworld.

Every war-shout was a praise to the Netherworld.

Every victory was glory for the Netherworld.

Su Bai watched as that dark-gold Power Of Faith rose from Rakshasa City, poured into the Underworld Space, and converged onto Ghost Gate Pass. On the doors of Ghost Gate Pass, the dark-gold light grew thicker, intertwining with the grey-white Yin Qi to form a strange balance.

[Rakshasa Clan: Population 600,000, general rank between Rank Two and Three, 13 Rank Five powerhouses, 1,200 Rank Four powerhouses, Daily Power Of Faith provided: 6,000 points]

Su Bai looked at that number and remained silent for a long time.

Six thousand points.

The six hundred thousand members of the Rakshasa Clan provided six thousand points of Power Of Faith.

The four and a half million humans provided three thousand points of Power Of Faith.

The average faith production of the Rakshasa was ten times that of the humans.

"Asura Path..." Su Bai said softly, "truly the most devout warriors."

Year 900.

The population of the Rakshasa Clan grew to 1.2 million.

Their territory had expanded to the entire New Era Ruins. Humans were forced to retreat to the southern part of the ruins, trembling under the pressure of Rakshasa City.

The relationship between humans and Rakshasa had shifted from fragmentation to opposition.

Humans viewed the Rakshasa as threats, invaders, and destroyers. The Netherworld Church issued several decrees calling for humans to unite and resist the expansion of the Rakshasa.

The Rakshasa viewed humans as weaklings, escapists, and people unworthy of the Netherworld's blessings. Zhao Tiezhu stated multiple times in public: "Humans do not deserve to live on this land. This land was given by the Netherworld to warriors, not to cowards."

Conflict was on the verge of breaking out.

Year 950.

War broke out.

The fuse was the ownership of a mine. That mine contained rich yin energy crystal deposits, an important resource for making weapons and armor. Humans claimed the mine belonged to them, and Rakshasa claimed it belonged to them.

The two sides argued in the council for three months without reaching any agreement.

On the first day of the fourth month, a Rakshasa General led ten thousand warriors to capture the mine.

The human counterattack came quickly. The Netherworld Church organized an army of a hundred thousand and marched toward the mine.

The two armies faced off at the foot of the mine.

Tension filled the air.

Zhao Tiezhu stood at the very front of the Rakshasa army, his dark-gold vertical pupils coldly watching the human army opposite him.

Behind him, 1.2 million Rakshasa waited for orders.

Chen Ming stood at the very front of the human army, his pure golden eyes calmly looking at Zhao Tiezhu.

Behind him, 4.5 million humans waited for orders.

The gazes of the two met in the void.

"Zhao Tiezhu," Chen Ming's voice was as calm as water, "do you want to start a war with humans?"

"It's not that I want to start a war," Zhao Tiezhu's voice was rough as thunder, "it's you who are forcing me into war."

"The mine belongs to humans. Our ancestors worked in that mine for eight hundred years."

"Your ancestors?" Zhao Tiezhu laughed, a ferocious and cruel smile, "Your ancestors are also our ancestors. We all came from the same group of people. It's just that we chose to fight, and you chose cowardice."

Chen Ming fell silent.

He knew what Zhao Tiezhu said was the truth.

Humans and Rakshasa shared the same roots. Their ancestors were all part of those three million survivors who emerged from the technological civilization. However, a thousand years of evolution had led them down different paths.

Humans chose faith; Rakshasa chose combat.

Humans became priests; Rakshasa became warriors.

Humans preserved civilization; Rakshasa evolved their physical bodies.

"Zhao Tiezhu," Chen Ming said, "I don't want to fight you."

"I don't want to either," Zhao Tiezhu said, "but my clansmen are watching. Your clansmen are watching too."

He paused.

"Chen Ming, do you know why we became like this?"

Chen Ming did not speak.

"Because the Netherworld needs warriors," Zhao Tiezhu said. "The Ghost King is strong, Black and White Impermanence are strong, Ox-Head and Horse-Face are strong, and the Ten Great Yin Marshals are all strong. But they are ghosts, the enforcers of the Underworld. What about the Living World? The Living World needs its own warriors."

He raised those sharp claws.

"We are the warriors of the Living World. The Netherworld bestowed power upon us, not to fight humans for territory, but to protect this land."

Chen Ming remained silent.

"So, I don't want to fight you," Zhao Tiezhu said, "but I will not back down either."

He turned around and looked at the 1.2 million Rakshasa behind him.

"Warriors of Rakshasa! You tell me, what should we do?!"

1.2 million Rakshasa let out a war-shout simultaneously:

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

The sound shook the heavens and the earth, making the entire New Era Ruins tremble.

Chen Ming closed his eyes.

He took a deep breath and then opened his eyes.

"Humans." His voice was soft, but every word reached across the entire battlefield, "Lower your weapons."

The human army was stunned.

"I said, lower your weapons," Chen Ming repeated. "We will not fight the Rakshasa."

He turned around and looked at the 4.5 million humans behind him.

"They are right. They are warriors, and we are priests. Warriors need battlefields, and priests need temples. We can coexist."

He raised his hand and pointed south.

"Retreat."

The human army began to retreat.

Zhao Tiezhu looked at Chen Ming's back and smiled.

The smile was still ferocious, but there was a hint of something indescribable in his eyes.

"Rakshasa, go home."

The 1.2 million Rakshasa simultaneously let out a victory war-shout, but in their roar, there was no contempt, only respect.

The Human Race and the Rakshasa Clan divided their territories from then on.

The last day of the first millennium.

Su Bai stood at the world core, looking down at the entire Living World.

The five great races had become six.

Six races, six roles.

Su Bai looked at those words, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly.

Six races.

The Living World finally had six independent civilizations.

And the starting point of it all was the rule that was currently condensing.

Six Paths of Reincarnation.

He lowered his head, looking deep into the world core at the ring-shaped phantom formed by countless points of light.

The phantom was much more solid than it had been a thousand years ago. Six points of light flickered within it, corresponding to the six races of the six paths.

Heavenly Path: Empty.

Human Path: Corresponds to humans.

Asura Path: Corresponds to Rakshasa.

animal path: Corresponds to Mushroom People, Shadow Demons, Ice Crystals, and Naga.

hungry ghost path: Empty.

hell path: Corresponds to the ghosts in the Underworld Space.

[Six Paths of Reincarnation (Embryonic Form) Condensation Progress: 60%]

[Estimated Completion Time: Three days]

Su Bai took a deep breath.

In three days, the Six Paths of Reincarnation would be officially born.

The first rule of the Netherworld World.

The source of the cycle of life and death.

The starting point of all order.

The corners of Su Bai's mouth curled up slightly; he felt that after the Six Paths of Reincarnation completely condensed its embryonic form, it would bring him even more surprises.

The Netherworld would truly be complete.

He raised his head, his gaze piercing through the barriers of the Netherworld World and landing on the real world outside.

The second round of the elimination tournament was about to begin.