PBSE 06

Chapter 6 – If You Don’t Fight, You Die

Author: Wei Yi Yong Heng 
Date: December 24, 2014

“I certainly haven’t forgotten—but what does that have to do with me?” Qin Mo stared at him, then added coldly, “The Saint Emperor was a Purple Blood—the greatest of the Nine Stars. But I’m not Purple Blood. I’m just an outsider—a white-blooded nobody beyond the Nine Stars.”

“Hahaha!” Qin Lin suddenly burst out laughing—mocking and pitying at the same time. His sharp gaze locked onto Qin Mo as he said, “Of course it has everything to do with you. Because you’re human. As long as you are human, it’s your duty to grow stronger. As long as you are human, you must fight—you must seize! Fight for your fate! Seize your path!”

Qin Mo stood dumbfounded, staring at his “cheap old man,” unable to believe these words came from his mouth.

But soon, he understood what Qin Lin meant. Qin Lin wanted him to remember the history of the human race—to remind him that humans were born weak, yet still rose to prominence. Back then, the fate of mankind was far worse than his own, and still they rose again and again. Every generation of Saint Emperors fought. Every one of them seized.

If they hadn’t fought—if they hadn’t seized—humans would have become food for other races again. And if the Xuanhuang Great Realm were ever to fall, humans wouldn’t even have the chance to become food. Extinction—the utter annihilation of the human race—would be their final fate.

“If you don’t fight—if you don’t seize—you die!” Qin Lin said coldly.

“But I’m not Purple Blood!” Qin Mo gritted his teeth.

“Foolishness!” Qin Lin’s eyes burned with fury. “Do you think the Nine-Star bloodlines of humanity came from humans themselves? They were stolen—taken—by the Saint Emperors! In the Primordial Era, all human ancestors were just like you—white-blooded wastes! Yet in this Eighth Epoch, with the Saint Emperor above your head, what right do you have to call yourself a waste?”

Qin Mo was stunned. He stared for a long time before asking, disbelieving, “What you’re saying… is it true?”

It shook him to the core. If the first-generation humans all had white blood, how could they have stood against the Hundred Races? How could they have fought in the War of Creation?

“Idiot!” Qin Lin roared. “How could I have raised such a stupid son? If what I said were false, then tell me—how could humans have ever been reduced to blood food?”

That question silenced Qin Mo completely.

“Everything our race possesses today—our land, our sky, the Nine-Star bloodlines, even the cultivation arts of humanity—all were fought for, seized by the Saint Emperors and our ancestors!” Qin Lin’s voice thundered.

That roar shattered Qin Mo’s worldview. So the Saint Emperors and the ancestors of humanity… were bandits?

But soon, he understood. In those times, they had no choice. Not to fight was death. Not to seize was extinction. It was about the fate of the entire race—every human life. You had to fight. You had to seize.

He thought of his father, Qin Lin, forcing him into a corner in the great hall earlier—how it mirrored what the first human ancestors had faced in the First Epoch.

As a white-blooded “waste,” he too had to fight—had to seize. Because it was about his life. If he didn’t fight, if he didn’t seize, he would die.

“Give me the spirit stone,” Qin Mo suddenly said.

Qin Lin smiled—part proud, part mocking.

He was proud that his son finally understood his intentions, but also amused—his son still didn’t understand how the world truly worked.

“That’s mine,” Qin Mo said again.

“Defeat me, and it’s yours.” Qin Lin turned and began to walk away. His calm voice echoed from afar:
“If you can’t defeat me, it belongs to the tribe.”

Qin Mo stared blankly as his father’s figure disappeared into the distance. The frustration in his heart slowly faded. For the first time, he found the world before him… beautiful.

Clutching the box, he gazed down at the sea of clouds beneath the cliff, then returned to his stone hut and sat cross-legged.

Opening the box, he saw a blood-red pill inside. A thick medicinal aroma instantly filled the entire stone room and drifted outward.

The scent drew the attention of the entire Hammerstone Tribe. When they saw that it came from Qin Mo’s hut, many tribesmen were shocked—their expressions quickly turning complicated.

The Grand Elder, Qin Tianli, led several other elders to the main hall, where Qin Lin was already waiting for them.

“Tribe leader, giving the Blood Condensation Pill to Qin Mo—don’t you think that’s a bit reckless?” the Grand Elder questioned.

“Tribe leader, this looks very much like abuse of power for personal gain…” said the Second Elder.

The elders who had followed Qin Tianli began to echo his accusation. Only the thousand-man captains, like Li Hai, stayed silent.

“That pill was something he fought for. What’s reckless about that?” Qin Lin opened his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the elders.

Under that gaze, all but the Grand Elder took a step back. Qin Tianli, however, stood firm.

“But he’s still white-blooded waste!” Qin Tianli insisted. “Using such a treasure on him is pure waste! It would be better spent on a young warrior with true potential!”

“So what if he’s white-blooded?” Qin Lin’s eyes turned icy. “Don’t forget—besides being your tribe leader, I am also a father. If you call it abuse of power, then fine—I’ll abuse my power.”

“This…” The elders’ faces all soured, especially Qin Tianli’s.

“Does the tribe leader not fear that such actions will divide the tribe?” Qin Tianli pressed angrily.

The other elders stayed silent, but their eyes made it clear—they wanted an explanation.

In the tribe, though the elders weren’t the strongest fighters, their status was high. They were priests—their healing techniques were invaluable in battle. This priestly lineage traced back to the Second Saint Emperor, Nuwa, and her Way of Creation.

In every tribe, priests held sacred positions—and the Hammerstone Tribe, a one-star lower tribe, was no exception.

Although Qin Tianli was only a one-star priest, he was a high-tier one-star priest—a rarity even among stronger tribes. For example, the Skyhawk Tribe, a mid-tier one-star tribe, had no such priest at all. Even in two-star tribes, high-tier one-star priests were considered honored guests.

That was why Qin Tianli could speak directly to Qin Lin, even though Qin Lin had already reached the Second Stage of the Spirit Crown Realm.

“Ha! Divide the tribe?” Qin Lin laughed coldly. “If I didn’t do this, the other eight nearby tribes would laugh at Hammerstone—call us cold-blooded and heartless! If I didn’t do this, then the tribe would fracture. Don’t forget—this Hammerstone Tribe was founded by me. I’ve been true to the tribe—and true to humanity!”

Qin Tianli’s face turned dark, and the other elders lowered their heads. Though they had contributed to the tribe’s founding, Qin Lin’s achievements outweighed them all—that was undeniable.

They couldn’t understand why, after abandoning Qin Mo in the great hall, he was now defending him again.

“Since the tribe leader has decided, we will not oppose you further. Only…” Qin Tianli hesitated.

“Only what?” Qin Lin asked.

“Only, I advise the tribe leader not to pin too much hope on that boy. Otherwise, it may cloud your state of mind—and that could harm the tribe’s future.” Qin Tianli finished with a polite bow. “I take my leave.”