Chapter One: The Ancestor of Luo

Heaven is round, earth is square, stretching without end. Golden Immortals roam everywhere, Celestial Immortals are as common as stray dogs.

Pangu split the heavens and earth, the three clans waged their wars, Hongjun preached the Dao, saints achieved enlightenment, witches and demons fought for supremacy.

Perhaps this is the impression many novel enthusiasts hold of the Primeval Age.

Unfortunately, Luo Zu, who was fortunate enough to become a transmigrator, had no such luck to participate in these sweeping, epic tales.

Perhaps it was the good fortune of the name his parents gave him, but Luo Zu had the chance to become an ancestor of the human race.

Indeed, after passing through to the Primeval Age, he was not Pangu, not a primordial god or demon, not the first strand of innate light, nor any other “first.” He was not Hongyun, Minghe, Zhen Yuanzi, Kunpeng, Di Jun, nor one of the Twelve Ancestors of the Wu clan. He wasn’t even a divine beast. Rather, he became one of the honored first-generation humans.

However, he was not from the very first batch sculpted by Goddess Nuwa, but from the generation after that, or even the one after that.

Still, this could be considered among the earliest humans.

After the birth of the second generation of humanity, they were given an important mission: to step out from under Nuwa’s protection, explore the unknown, and expand outward.

Luo Zu was born during the second generation’s journey to discover the outside world.

Later, the tribe to which he belonged settled in a valley, and Luo Zu settled there as well.

However, just as Luo Zu reached adulthood and joined the hunting party for the first time, disaster struck—the settlement was attacked by a pack of wolf demons.

Except for the members of the hunting party, everyone in the settlement fell as prey to those wolf demons.

He had been ready to drill wood for fire, planning to follow the classic path to earn merit.

Who would have thought his home would be destroyed just like that?

It was intolerable.

He and his companions abandoned their old settlement, found a new cave to dwell in, and became true cave dwellers.

During this time, he succeeded in making fire by friction.

Unfortunately, there was no merit bestowed upon him.

Perhaps it was not truly meritorious—first, because word of his achievement had not spread, and second, because they were never really lacking fire.

Humans were not weak—especially the primordial humans; though they did not practice cultivation, each possessed supernatural powers.

Some could breathe fire, summon lightning from their palms, command the wind, or burrow through the earth…

Among the hunting party was one who could breathe fire, whom Luo Zu affectionately called Fire Lad.

So, in reality, they never lacked cooked food.

Luo Zu himself possessed a supernatural power—the Inner World.

It was a spatial-type ability.

It could be used to store items, but not living things. At present, it could only hold a single cow—a primeval cow, huge beyond measure, about ninety feet long, thirty feet tall, and weighing a hundred tons, or so Luo Zu estimated, since there were no standardized measurements in this era.

However, his Inner World could not preserve things for long periods, and after storing a carcass for an extended time, Luo Zu discovered the meat had spoiled—so much for preservation.

Thus, he realized even in the Primeval Age, bacteria and microorganisms existed.

Which made sense, considering there were ten-thousand-year-old spirit mushrooms and other fungi; how could there not be bacteria and microbes?

Since fungi and bacteria could survive in his Inner World, then perhaps other lifeforms could survive there as well. In truth, his Inner World might be capable of storing living things.

So he began to experiment—after all, the Primeval Age wasn’t just home to enormous beasts but also small creatures.

He captured a calf and placed it inside his Inner World. Unfortunately, it failed to survive—after a few hops, it expired.

Next, he captured an animal resembling a rooster. It too perished after a dozen jumps in his Inner World.

Later, he tossed in a frog-sized creature—it lasted about a minute before succumbing.

Afterward, he tried transplanting plants, along with a pile of soil.

He was in luck—plants survived, though after several years, they would shrink: a sapling seven feet tall would become a “giant tree” only an inch high.

So it was that, through these experiments, thousands of sunrises and sunsets passed across the Primeval Age.

Spring came and went; summer yielded to winter.

Time in the Primeval Age was pitiless.

Yet Luo Zu’s lifespan was long indeed. Goddess Nuwa had blessed the first humans with nearly a millennium each.

It was a pity Luo Zu had no attribute panel—otherwise, seeing his thousand-year lifespan would have saved him much anxiety.

Over these years, nothing earth-shattering occurred on the land—witches and demons still vied for supremacy, humans quietly developed, and Luo Zu’s hunting party continued living in their cave, which they eventually expanded, adding six new members.

The hunting party included not only men but women as well. Although men were somewhat stronger, women too possessed supernatural powers.

One stroke of luck—the wolf demon clan, which had been a mortal enemy of Luo Zu’s old settlement, was wiped out by a tribe of witches.

So Luo Zu’s private vow was fulfilled without him lifting a finger.

But Luo Zu’s experiments continued.

Tiny insects, as fine as a strand of hair, could survive in his Inner World.

Determining the specifications of life his Inner World could sustain left Luo Zu at a loss.

What to do with it next? A culture dish for bacteria? Or raise venomous insects?

Refining venomous creatures, perhaps…

For three years, Luo Zu pondered.

In that time, his physique grew sturdier—he could now lift nine tripods with ease.

One could say the Primeval Age’s environment nurtured the strong, and the human body was extraordinary, improving rapidly.

Yet, in the current era, even lifting nine tripods was like being a mere ant.

Aside from physical strength, supernatural powers also grew with time and use. Fire Lad’s fire breath grew from a three-foot flame to thirty feet—ten times more powerful.

Luo Zu’s Inner World also expanded threefold—he could now store three giant cattle.

Besides physical prowess and supernatural gifts, Luo Zu and his companions developed a breathing technique.

By following a certain rhythm, they could distinguish spiritual energy in the air, then—using their powers—integrate it into their bodies.

Combining this with knowledge from his past life’s fantasy novels, Luo Zu finally refined this crude, simple breathing method. Through experimentation by all, it proved applicable to most of the settlement.

They named it the Luo Zu Breathing Technique.

“My name will be inscribed in the clan records,” Luo Zu wrote, smiling.

His record was simple, each stroke made with care. As for script, humans had yet to invent their own writing, so he used the Witch Script—a mysterious runic script created by the Witch tribe.