On the vast wasteland, a huge palace stands high. There is nothing in the palace, except for a stone seat at the end, with a dead bone sitting on it. His upper body is straight, his arms are placed on both sides of the stone seat, as if he is a king looking down on all living beings.
The sun and the moon flew by, the clouds rose and fell, and in ten thousand years, no one came to this wilderness.
Thousands of years later, by chance, the international mercenary Gao Yang received a drop of ancient blood inheritance.
From then on, I smiled proudly in the world of mortals, and sighed in the brocade of mandarin ducks.
This is where his killing spree begins.
And as Gao Yang gradually gets deeper into the struggle for power in rivers, lakes and temples, a generous and tragic past gradually emerges...
Dry powder