After the great war, Dawu lay in ruins.
The Confucian academies no longer filled the world with pure energy. Taoist masters no longer descended from the mountains to subdue demons. Demons had taken over Buddhist temples and ran rampant, and the martial artists who once stood up for justice were gone.
“Where did they all go?”
“They… most of them died on the battlefield. Some were killed by their own people.”
Foreign kingdoms invade, demons run rampant, and the people can barely survive.
A group of patriots gather at a tavern in the mortal realm to discuss how to restore their country and save their people.
The tavern keeper watches it all with a smile.
When the wheel of history begins to turn, no one can escape being swept up in it.
I couldn't take it anymore after reading the fourth chapter. It was so toxic! What kind of nonsense was this? I've lived for tens of thousands of years and suddenly I've become a complete novice.
If you can't write, then don't write.