The morning mist over the lake dispersed, sunlight spilled down.
The black-haired youth sat leisurely on a small wooden stool by the lake, fishing rod in hand, a dogtail grass stem between his teeth, feeling especially relaxed.
"Today the water's calm. I'm bound to catch a few big ones."
So thinking, he cast his line with satisfaction.
But at that moment, a rumble echoed from afar.
Boom—!
Dozens of beams of light descended from the sky, dazzling like divine miracles. Disciples and prodigies of great sects swept in, their auras shaking heaven and earth.
They split into factions, landing around the lakeshore, glaring at each other with blazing hostility.
"The sacred words of the ancient god cannot be hoarded! The Eastern Holy Land must hand them over!"
"Nonsense! Yesterday it was our Northern Sect that heard them—why should you copy them too?!"
"Hmph, one phrase from the ancient god outweighs ten thousand scrolls of scripture! If you dare monopolize it, you stand against the Dao itself!"
In an instant, the atmosphere by the lake grew taut as drawn blades.
…
The black-haired youth looked up, blinking in confusion.
"Huh? Why are so many people here? Carrying hoes and picks… don't tell me you're here to build a village?"
Sure enough, he saw groups of cultivators swinging magical tools to dig trenches, while others hauled boulders to the shore.
"So that's it! Haha, finally, people with some sense! I've been saying this all along—this lakeside's so wide, not building houses here is a waste."
Excited, he leapt up and shouted: "Come on! Put the rocks over here, neatly now! You few, open a path over there, dig a channel for water—building a village needs order!"
…
The cultivators froze.
"B-Build… a village?"
The holy son trembled all over, tears brimming. "As expected of the ancient god! He is constructing a temple here, granting blessings to the nine heavens!"
"So the stones we carried are foundation for his divine palace!"
"The water channels are the sacred paths for ritual!"
Suddenly enlightened, they wept harder, working even more furiously.
"Quick! Stack the stones higher—worthy of the divine palace!"
"The channel must be perfectly straight—this is the road to the heavens!"
…
The black-haired youth beamed, overjoyed at their enthusiasm.
"Now that's more like it! Many hands make light work—village building takes teamwork!"
He even pulled out a roasted fish, waving it aloft and shouting: "Hard work deserves a reward! Whoever finishes a wall first gets a fish tonight!"
…
Boom!
The moment he said it, the lakeshore erupted again.
"The ancient god is granting us offerings!"
"Hurry! Work like mad! Whoever earns a fish will defy the heavens!"
In an instant, disciples of all the great sects toiled like beasts of burden, stacking stones, carving trenches, sweating as if their lives depended on it—far harder than any mortal construction crew.
And all the while they cried through tears:
"Glory to the ancient god!"
"The divine palace rises!"
"The path of sacrifice is here!"
…
Yet they were still disciples of rival sects. Even as they built, their eyes flickered with suspicion.
"That fish must go to our sect!"
"No! Divine offerings cannot be monopolized!"
"If we fail to secure one, how will we face our master?!"
Soon the building site turned into a battlefield.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Sword qi flashed, spell-light exploded. Stones shattered, trenches collapsed, dust and smoke rolled across the lakeshore.
…
The black-haired youth sat on a boulder, gnawing roasted fish, utterly dumbfounded.
"Damn… we barely built anything and now they're fighting?!"
He shook his head helplessly. "Sigh, these people—always quarreling even while working. Impossible to manage."
Thinking for a moment, he bellowed: "Stop it, all of you! If you keep fighting, will the houses ever get built?!"
…
His voice rolled like thunder, drowning out every clash of swords and spells.
Instantly, the fighting ceased.
The cultivators glanced at each other—then trembled, eyes ablaze with fanaticism.
"The ancient god has spoken!"
"'Will the houses ever get built?'—such words of inquiry!"
"Terrifying! He warns us that cultivation cannot be spent in fighting one another—we must advance in unity!"
They collapsed to their knees, weeping: "Forgive us, ancient god!"
…
The black-haired youth nearly burst out laughing. "I told you to stop fighting because the houses would fall apart! Why are you crying again?!"
Sighing, he tossed his half-eaten fish to the ground.
"Fine—whoever doesn't fight gets fish tonight."
Boom!
Once again, the lakeside exploded in frenzy.
"Divine offering—fish flesh of grace!"
"Stop the fighting at once! Enough!"
"The ancient god tests us! This is the way of harmony!"
All knelt in unison, voices like mountains roaring: "Sacred words of the ancient god!"
…
Night fell.
Around the lake now stood a rough circle of stacked stone buildings—crooked, clumsy, yet glowing like temples in the firelight.
Countless cultivators prostrated themselves, crying out: "The divine palace is born!"
Meanwhile, the black-haired youth sat cross-legged by the fire, chewing his last bite of fish, yawning.
"Phew—having a new village is nice. Tomorrow I'll find someone to dig a well for me."
Content, he lay down to sleep—utterly unaware that he had become the faith of the entire continent.