The Strongest Interstellar Commander - Chapter 67: Recapturing Proxima (Part 1).

Abandoned at birth in a humble stable, Shirone was raised by commoners—but he was anything but ordinary. Blessed with remarkable insight, he taught himself to read at a young age. A fateful visit to the city introduced him to the wonders of magic, igniting an unshakable dream of becoming a mage. Yet, beneath the city's dazzling facade lurked a ruthless social hierarchy, where power and privilege crushed those who dared to rise above their station. As Shirone uncovers the world's darkest secrets before even coming of age, one question remains—can he defy fate and claim his destiny as a mage in a world determined to keep him down?

In the distant future on Earth, there was a girl with God-like powers. That girl is the last survivor of the former human race that flourished in ancient times.

The Ancients.

And on that very same Earth, a new breed of humans with the ability to wield Magic emerged.

That girl began to observe the new human race silently.

Sometimes called a God, other times called Satan, that girl continued to observe the new human race.

This is the story of the happenings between the lonely girl and the hardworking new human race.

Even the most capable people cannot escape calamity. Zhang Ping, who dreamed of becoming the world’s best, voluntarily enters the palace to become a eunuch before his father has to resort to plundering and crime.

How can a prince be so thin and bony, that was Zhang Ping’s first impression of Huangfu Jie.

The prince looks at the kneeling eunuch, the scars and wounds on his body not yet healing.

Zhang Ping’s eyes turn red—I curse your ancestors for eighteen generations!

He is just little uglier; weirder than normal people.

Are ugly people not human? I, Zhang Ping, swear to cultivate the world’s second best over here in the palace!

- Description from Novelupdates

How long I’d been here, I couldn’t quite recall. From this sorry situation, I as always raised my eyes to the sky; a sky in which the great, massive sun was clad in levity. Sunlight poured gently upon all. What a blessing it would have been for the world if only the skies could remain clear. For tomorrow too, and for all days to come, I was to continue to pray for calm. To endure for those who cried, with desperation I remained in prayer.

And then, one freezing, forlorn, soulless, stagnant, drizzly day we died. Or so I thought…