"Hahaha, come drink, ancestor’s blessing, give thanks to the Human Race’s great detachment."

"Ancestor’s blessing!"

A group from Xiaoyang shouted out, truly grateful to the Human Race.

It was because of the indifference of the major tribes of the Human Race that Xiaoyang could pass down through the catastrophe of extermination eight thousand years ago.

Although it cannot be compared to the peak era eight thousand years ago, at least the overall tribal strength is gradually recovering.

In fact, in the beginning, the Human Race was the weakest among the surrounding beings on this land.

Later, a figure known as Marquis Yongshan emerged, who integrated the scattered Human Race with formidable power, achieving great fame through eastern and western conquests, establishing the framework of the Nine Lands of Yongyi for the Human Race.

...

In a certain mountain valley in the northwest mountains of Ji Land.

Numerous Xiaoyang were imprisoned in the valley, with Tian Chuanshan sitting cross-legged at a high point in the valley.

One flying ship after another descended from the sky.

"Commander Tian, why are there so many?"

Huo Qing descended from the leading flying ship, looking at the mountain valley full of Xiaoyang with some surprise.

Tian Chuanshan stood up, his cold face showed no hint of a smile, and he spoke hoarsely: "They all fled from the Mu Kang Branch from the desert.

According to their accounts, the Vein Master of the Mu Kang Branch was invited to a banquet by the Vein Master of the Mingcang Branch and never returned; then the Mingcang Branch attacked the Mu Kang Branch."

"Doesn’t that mean that all our efforts in Ji Land have instead benefited the Mingcang Branch?"

"It might be a benefit to Mingcang, but it also made it convenient for us to capture Xiaoyang, the offerings that the Ancestral Temple Keeper demanded for the Xiaoyang sacrifice came without deliberate search, many ran back from the west.

These guys, unable to stay in the desert, wanted to sneak back and hide in the mountains and forests, but unexpectedly ran straight into my Blood Sea Guard."

"That’s good, it seems next time I should bring more flying ships."

Huo Qing signaled the flying ships to land, and barrels of Mafei Powder were moved off.

The offerings must be alive, but it’s not easy to transport living Xiaoyang through the mountains, so they need to be put to sleep peacefully.

The tribe’s imitation flying ships are only about thirty feet in size, and their internal structures are not suited for transporting living beings.

All nine flying ships were filled; in ensuring that none were crushed, suffocated, or died, each trip could only transport over four thousand Xiaoyang.

They also needed sufficient defenses, which meant that three to four hundred clan soldiers had to be in charge of escorting each flying ship.

Currently, the tribe is already crafting larger war flying ships.

Once the flying ships landed, one Xiaoyang after another was pulled out, given Mafei Powder, and once unconscious, directly thrown into the flying ships.

Soon, under the escort of over thirty Cyan Simurgh Soldiers, the nine flying ships charged out of the mountains heading east.

Traversing mountains and ridges, they returned to the clan lands.

After dropping off the captive Xiaoyang, more than thirty flying ships, accompanied by over a hundred Cyan Simurgh Soldiers, set off westward once again.

...

In numerous valleys within the clan lands, countless Xiaoyang were fast asleep, with giant crossbows set up on both sides and clan soldiers standing guard.

In the valley, figures could be seen roaming about, administering Mafei Powder to the Xiaoyang.

Though it’s a bit troublesome, the sheer number of imprisoned Xiaoyang within the tribe makes this method relatively safer.

In the blink of an eye, more than half a year passed.

Flying ships patrolled, navigating through the mountains and fields in all directions of the clan lands.

On these flying ships, there were large animal-skin drums; wherever they passed, the drums’ ’dong dong’ echoed through the mountains and forests.

Each time they passed a settlement, countless figures emerged to watch.

The Witch Priest of the settlement appeared.

"These are the drums summoning for the sacrifice; it’s the day of the annual festival, and since we’re a bit far from the Ancestral Temple, we must hurry to set off!"

"Bring offerings for the ancestors and sacrificial spirits."

In every settlement, spurred by the Witch Priest, each household returned home busily packing.

They put on their best clothes, some even dressing their children in new robes.

With the past two years of stability, a plentiful harvest, and an ample supply of meat from hunting, not being at war, the women had had time to sew clothes for the children and men during their leisure.

Summoning the tribespeople to the Ancestral Temple for ancestral worship was an announcement made long ago, and each settlement had already made preparations for it.

The reserve clan soldiers in the settlements had been assembled long ago, serving as escorts for the journey to the Ancestral Temple.

Some settlements even brought out small carts and led some tame long-haired cattle and other wild beasts.

Settlements near rivers lowered their small boats.

At once, as the drum signals were received, settlements from all directions began heading toward the Ancestral Temple.

"Get on board!"

On the journey, those traveling by land met those traveling by water, with some boats docking to bring women and children aboard.

On the wide river, somehow two small boats began racing against each other.

"Haha, today we’re going to be the first to arrive at the Ancestral Temple."

On a small, elongated boat with a slightly pointed front, a group of young people each carrying animal-skin bundles paddled rapidly.

"Row faster!"

The boat shot forward like an arrow from a bowstring, quickly overtaking one large boat after another.

"Where did these lads come from, they’re going to get ahead."

"We can’t let that happen, we must send a boat up there too."

...

In some settlements, the Witch Priest, Settlement Leader, and Soldier Leader gathered together and began discussing.

Soon, the scene started spreading.

"Boats need water; Amao, you go straight, climb mountains when you see them, swim when you reach water, bring the best offerings from our settlement and be the first to arrive at the Ancestral Temple."

A thin boy who resembled a monkey looked at the three figures surrounding him and solemnly nodded.