Soul Land: Origin of Humanity

The world had changed within me, but as I journeyed into the deepest wilds, it became clear the world itself was no less changed.I, Ye Caiqian, stood on the threshold of the unknown, where the land was older than myth, the sky veiled with a permanent shimmer of spirit energy, and the forest canopy blotted out the sun in a thousand layered shadows.

For days I traveled, deeper and deeper, past any territory known to humans. Here, even high-tier spirit beasts slunk away when I passed—some out of respect, others out of primal fear. My senses, sharpened by the forging of my spiritual core, felt every tremor in the roots, every whisper of the wind, every living thing threading through the world's tapestry.

The trees here were titans—trunks as wide as city gates, leaves that shivered with spirit energy. Some bore luminous fruit that hovered inches from their branches; others curled their roots above the ground, forming passageways lined with moss that pulsed with ancient power.

There was a subtle tension everywhere, as if the land itself judged every step. I encountered flora unknown to any human—petals that sang with the wind, vines whose touch flickered with lightning, flowers that exhaled waves of restorative energy or poisonous mist.

I was not alone.Shadows moved between the trees—giant stag-beasts with antlers crackling with thunder, crystal-plated wolves whose howls set the air vibrating. At one moonlit pool, I watched a swarm of Moonfly Carp leap a waterfall of glowing water, each jump a dance of spirit and light.

But none of this distracted from what I sensed at the edges of perception:Dragons.The kings of this world, unseen for centuries, but unmistakable. The ground itself trembled with the memory of their passing.

The signs became impossible to ignore:A forest clearing, scorched and glassy, as if a comet of flame had touched down.A scale, the size of a shield, half-buried in the loam—its color shifting between crimson and gold, crackling with residual fire energy.Massive claw marks in an ancient boulder, so deep the stone had melted around the edges.

I moved cautiously, not out of fear, but respect. Every instinct told me this was not just another step in my journey, but a test by the world itself.

My presence drew attention. Once, a trio of wind element manticores circled me, their wings stirring hurricanes. I let my elemental aura flare, showing I was not prey—after a tense standoff, they slunk back into the trees.

But the feeling only intensified:I was being watched. Judged. Hunted—or perhaps, awaited.

It happened at dawn.

I entered a valley where the spirit energy felt like molten gold. The air vibrated.A voice thundered—not heard, but felt, in the bones:

"Human… Why do you trespass in the sacred domain?"

A shadow blotted out the rising sun.The dragon descended.

He was magnificent—a fire dragon, his scales a shifting sea of crimson, gold, and black. Each beat of his wings sent waves of heat rippling across the ground. His eyes, ancient and knowing, burned like twin furnaces. Smoke curled from his nostrils; the grass around him withered.

I stood my ground.The dragon circled, tail flattening trees like reeds.

He attacked with no warning—a pillar of flame so hot it turned stone to slag. I threw up a wall of water and earth, the barrier hissing and shrinking in the inferno.Lightning lanced from his jaws, thunder following in its wake. I answered with wind, splitting the bolt and redirecting it skyward, then darted to the side, drawing fire and water together to create a boiling mist.

We clashed again and again, earth shaking with each blow.The dragon's claws shattered boulders; his tail swept like a living avalanche.I used every ounce of my new power—lower and upper soul cores flaring, spirit energy drawn from the earth itself. When he came at me with fire, I met him with ice; when he battered me with wind, I responded with stone.

He was faster, stronger, but I was flexible, and my mind was sharper than ever. With my spiritual core, I could see the flow of his intent—a flicker of movement before each strike, the subtle change in spirit energy before every elemental shift.

At last, as he lunged with fangs bared, I poured all three cores into one desperate move:—A surge of spirit energy, my body glowing with elemental light.—Fire, water, earth, and air, twisted into a spiral, a shield and spear at once.—A psychic wave, sent not to harm, but to connect—to show my will, my spirit, my refusal to yield.

We collided.The blast flattened trees for a hundred paces, sent birds scattering in a storm of feathers and cinders.When the dust cleared, I stood bleeding, battered—but upright.

The dragon staggered, one wing singed, his scales cracked and smoldering.He stared at me, fire still burning in his eyes, but now mixed with something like… respect.

For a moment, there was only the sound of wind and crackling embers.

Then, the dragon lowered his head, his voice rumbling—no longer with threat, but with the weight of centuries:

"You have power, human—more than any I have seen. But you do not fight as a beast fights. You fight with restraint… and with reason."

He gazed at me, golden eyes narrowing.

"Few mortals have ever forced me to reveal my name. You may call me Qianlong. Why do you seek us, Sage of the New Age?"

I bowed, pain radiating through my body, but spirit unbroken.

"I seek truth, not conquest. I wish to understand the world's heart—to learn, and to help my people find our place in this land. If that means facing dragons, so be it. But I do not come to steal or destroy."

Qianlong's snout curled into something like a smile—a flash of old amusement.

"You are bold. There is a council, deep within the world's marrow—a gathering of the oldest among us. If you wish to know our secrets, come. Walk beside me as friend, not foe."

He turned, wings unfurling, and I followed, every step a lesson in humility and awe.As we walked deeper into the wilds, I sensed the landscape itself shifting—ancient magic stirring, barriers parting for my passage.

The forest thickened into a living cathedral, roots arching overhead, spirits flickering between the leaves. Other beasts watched from afar, cautious and silent.

Qianlong spoke as we traveled, his words winding like rivers:

"You are not the first human to touch the secrets of power… but you are the first to cross so many lines, to challenge the world and survive. Perhaps you are the bridge our kind have awaited."

My heart pounded—not with fear, but with the joy of discovery.

Together, dragon and human, we vanished into the heart of the ancient world, where history waited in silence and the future was still unwritten.

Ahead lay the Dragon Domain, the council of elders, and truths older than time.

And I, Ye Caiqian, was ready to face them all.