My name is Ye Yuan. I live on this land, abandoned by the gods. In ancient times, the gods and titanic demons fought, tearing open the heavens. Blood rain fell for three thousand years, turning the path of cultivation into a road of darkness. Cultivation today is no path to ascension. It means gnawing on bones and swallowing vengeful spirits, relying on wicked arts to prolong your life. Spiritual energy has long since vanished. Cultivators absorb only yin energy, and with every breakthrough, their hearts rot a little further. In the end, they are no longer human, just monsters wearing human skin. The land is riddled with fissures, and unspeakable things crawl beneath it, calling your name in the night. The sects are no bastions of righteousness; they are all breeding grounds for gu. The first lesson your master teaches you is this: don’t sleep too soundly, or your fellow disciples might cut out your tongue to make medicine. They say there’s a “Road to Immortality,” but who has ever seen a living person return from it? I only know that every corpse that opens its eyes thinks it can still be human. But in this world, humanity is long gone. All that remain are struggling ghosts.
