Emperor Qingyun's Rebirth Against Heaven

About This Novel

Prologue: Heaven Collapse The sky cracked like a mirror, and what poured out from the crack was not only the confrontation between light and darkness, but also the cry of the fate of heaven and earth. That day, all the glory and shadows in the Nine Heavens poured down at the same time, tearing through the meridians of the world like a storm, and cutting apart the will of all races like a blade. Ye Chen stood on the top of the broken battlefield, with the incomplete stone steps of the throne under his feet, and in front of him was endless killing and desolation. His robes were stained by the flames of war, and the imperial emblem on his cloak was dimmed in the blood and ashes, but it still silently announced a name: Great Emperor. However, at that moment, the name was like a broken mirror, reflecting no longer authority, but the despair and betrayal surging in countless reflections. In the distance of the battlefield, alien races surged in like a tidal wave. They have no human outline, some are like whip-like tentacles spitting out cold light, and some are like twisted shadows, wrapping all light in cold black. Their arrival does not feel like an invasion, but rather like devouring-devouring order, devouring spiritual veins, and devouring everything that was once called "home." The sky of the Nine Heavens trembled under their feet, and the silvery Milky Way shattered into countless pieces of glass in front of them. Ye Chen raised his sword. The sword in your hand is not just a cold weapon, it is the length that answers the faith of millions of people, and is the sharp blade that once supported the faith of all races. As soon as the sword light came out, it was like the Milky Way hanging upside down, cutting off the wriggling black shadow nearby. Every sword carries the memory of his time as an emperor: the dispatch of thousands of troops and the prayers of all races and creatures. He uses the sword as a pen to write a chapter of protection between heaven and earth. But even the most magnificent chapters are sometimes torn apart. In the battle line, an insignificant person is invisible

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