Soul Land: Origin of Humanity

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Five years had passed since Ye Caiqian's soul soared into the Divine Realm—a world so vast and radiant that even the grandest landscapes of Douluo seemed as dreams in comparison. Here, the sky was an endless dome of shimmering light; rivers flowed with immortal energy, mountains glowed with veins of gold, and clouds swirled in patterns shaped by the dreams of a thousand gods. There was no day or night, only the ceaseless pulse of divine power and a sense that eternity itself was close enough to touch.

In this hallowed place, Caiqian's very being was tested and transformed. His journey into godhood was not merely a promotion of power, but a crucible that threatened to unravel all that he had been.

For the first two years, Ye Caiqian lived in near-total isolation. The boundaries of his divine domain were bare, marked only by a single monolith—the symbol of his newly forged god position, the God of Humanity. All else was void, a realm awaiting his imprint.

He devoted his energy to a task few mortals could imagine: reforging both body and soul in the image of the Divine Realm. He drew in immortal energy with every breath, letting it flow into his bones, his flesh, his very blood. It hurt—sometimes so much that he screamed in silence, his voice lost in the boundless heavens. Yet he endured, knowing that only by remaking himself could he become worthy of eternity.

When his body gleamed with the luster of true divinity, he turned inward, reaching for his soul.

It was during this process, as he plumbed the deepest layers of his spirit, that Ye Caiqian discovered something unexpected.

There, hidden in the secret heart of his soul, was a dense, pearly fog—a power utterly unlike the divine energy around him. It shimmered with a cold brilliance, separate from both soul power and immortal energy. When Caiqian probed it, he felt echoes of memory and a peculiar resonance, as if he was looking at the blueprint of his own destiny.

It was his Transcendent Understanding, the cheat he had been gifted when he first reincarnated in this world. With it, he had mastered knowledge, innovation, and growth at a pace no ordinary human could match. This power had shaped the entire rise of human civilization.

But now, standing at the threshold of divinity, Caiqian saw its flaws.

"This power is mighty—almost miraculous—for mortals," he thought. "But here in the Divine Realm, it feels… incomplete. Like a flame in a hurricane."

He realized that the cheat, for all its wonders, belonged to the mortal plane. Its logic, its framework, its essence were bound by laws weaker than those of the immortal world. Now that he stood among gods, it would offer little against divine cause and effect.

After some hesitation, he resolved to strip this white fog from his soul—for now. "I will return to it when the time is right. Perhaps I will find a way to elevate it, as I have elevated myself."

As the fog was gently set aside in the deepest vault of his spirit, he felt lighter—less burdened by the rules of his previous existence. Free, for the first time, to be a god in truth.

Caiqian pressed on. The immortal energies finished their work, rebuilding his soul anew. Yet with this profound transformation came an expected loss: the three divine rings of power he had painstakingly built in Douluo were not fit for the Divine Realm. The pressure here, the rules, the competition among gods—all demanded that he start again.

As the process finished, he sensed only two divine rings in his spirit, the power of the third and fourth burned away by the fires of ascension. He was, once more, at the beginning of a climb.

But he was not discouraged. Drawing on faith from the mortal world—the silent prayers whispered by billions, the memories left in statues and sacred texts—he cultivated with a focus and hunger only a god could possess. Three years passed in the blink of an eye as he gathered strength, once more condensing a third ring, then a fourth. He stood now at the peak of the 3rd Class God Position—on the verge of something greater.

Yet he knew: this final breakthrough would not come from his own will, but from the collective leap of faith of all humanity. Only when his people reached higher, would he too rise.

With his foundation restored, Caiqian surveyed his new world. What had once been barren was now a blank canvas. He willed it to change.

A palace of luminous marble rose at the center, columns inscribed with the tales of humanity's journey. Gardens bloomed, trees grew from seeds of memory, and rivers curled through emerald valleys. He painted mountains into being with a thought, carved lakes with a gesture, summoned clouds to shade tranquil groves.

His home was both a reflection of his soul and an offering to future human gods—should they ever join him.

When he was satisfied, Caiqian cast his attention downward—toward Douluo, toward the Temple of Humanity and the avatar he had left behind.

He sent a surge of immortal energy into the temple, intending only to recharge and strengthen his link. But as the torrent poured forth, he noticed something strange: the power was being drawn not just by his avatar, but by a second presence—the Book of Wisdom.

This artifact, forged as a pseudo-divine tool before his ascension, now drank in the energy like a starved child. Its form grew more elaborate, script burned into its cover, and the air around it shimmered with halos of light.

As he watched, the Book of Wisdom underwent its own ascension—becoming a genuine divine artifact.

He could sense its new powers: not just storing all knowledge, but analyzing it, cross-referencing, and even generating new insights for those who sought its pages. It was a silent, eternal teacher, ready to guide future generations.

His temple, too, was uplifted, glowing with a purity unmatched even among other gods' sanctuaries.

When Ye Caiqian opened his senses to the mortal world, he was stunned by what he saw.

Nearly two thousand years had passed—one day in the Divine Realm for each year below. The world he had known had transformed almost beyond recognition.

The proud Country of Everglow was now a single city—its greatness remembered in legend. In its place had risen the Rising Sun Empire, a realm stretching from horizon to horizon, peopled by millions.

Caiqian gazed through the ages, tracing the thread of history as it wound through peace and conflict, growth and decay. He saw the struggle to maintain unity, the corruption that sometimes infected power, the flames of war rekindled whenever humanity's ambitions grew too great.

But he also saw progress. New arts, sciences, schools of thought. Brave souls who rose above greed to guide their people, innovators who challenged old boundaries. For every tyrant, a hero; for every defeat, a hope.

"This is the fate of all intelligent life," Caiqian mused, his heart full of both pride and sorrow. "There can be no light without shadow, no triumph without loss. The spark I lit continues to burn—even if its path is never straight."

Caiqian watched the prayers that reached him. Many still called out in his name—especially in City of Beginning, where the old rituals endured. In other places, heroes had arisen, some worthy, some not.

He accepted it all, without judgment.

He placed his hand on the Book of Wisdom—now a treasure of both the mortal and divine realms—and whispered:

"Let there be memory. Let there be understanding. Let there be renewal."

He understood that humanity's journey was only beginning, and as their God, he would watch, guide when he must, and bear witness to every joy and sorrow.

He also pondered, for the first time, the white fog of transcendent understanding that slept deep in his soul. "One day, perhaps, I will find a way to awaken you on this level. Until then, I will walk forward with all that I have built."

The tapestry of ages was spread before him, and in the great silence of the Divine Realm, Ye Caiqian—God of Humanity—sat in quiet contemplation, ready for whatever wonders and sorrows the future would bring.

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