Grave Sweeper? My Roots Are All Divine Swords

The mass graves in the mountains behind the sect are my territory. Wiping the nameless monument every day is my practice. My classmates laughed at me as a waste, the deacon withheld money from me, and the sect master never looked at me. Until that day when it rained heavily and blood seeped into the inscription on his fingertips. The roar of dragons in the sky pierced my ears, and the nameless monument exploded like stars. Gold characters filled the sky penetrated into my seven orifices, and withered grass turned into a three-foot green edge in my palm. A hoarse chuckle came from the ground: "Thirty thousand years... Gravekeeper, you are finally here."