Along with the high-pitched roars, Li Yao seemed to see that, on the bizarre planets, groups of bizarre-shaped creatures were tearing off their disguises of shame and humor. War machines made of crystals and metals were emerging from the deep sea, from the valleys, and from the chaotic stone belts.
The horns of war were blown. People were praying to their ancestors and the gods in the languages that had been passed on on Earth ten thousand years ago, hoping that they could bring victory to the war. No. Prayers to the gods were unnecessary, because they were waging a war against the gods.
The Primeval Clan—human beings—would represent the blue planet that had been destroyed twenty thousand years ago and declare war on all the species as strong as deities in the universe.
"The vast sea of stars is the journey of our race. There will be no gods or devils after us!"
No species or civilization was a match for the Primeval Lord of Heaven.
