There are fifty dragons in the world, they are born with the Dao, and they are immortal and immortal, so they also call themselves the Dao of Heaven. The heavens are entrenched in the sky, the scales and claws are locking the mountains and rivers, and they are all the playthings in the hands of the breath for thousands of years. Hundreds of tribes can rise and fall no better than a dog in a cage.
Until the young man in the prophecy finally broke through and escaped, raised his sword and climbed to Mount Tianhe again. The footprints behind him are the tears of Xueyun, the blood of Beilu, the dreams of Shengjing, and the regrets of Cangshan... It turns out that a rusty sword can also be used as a powerful thunder. If the way of heaven is unkind, then it will kill all the dragon shadows covering the sky; if the sky is unkind, then it will rewrite the world with blood as ink!
So that day, the dragon's roar trampled the Lingxiao Palace to pieces, and the blade of the sword was stained with blood and immortal souls. The young man looked up to the sky and roared, and the heavens fell to the nine levels in shock.
