AD 798, the fourteenth year of Zhenyuan of the Tang Dynasty. Anxi Protectorate, the last lonely city.
This is a forgotten territory, a bloody footnote that will soon be lost in history books. The remnant soldiers of the four towns are isolated in the wilderness, facing the Tubo cavalry and the shadow of the Great Eclipse. The Tang flag on the city wall sobs in the wind and sand, guarding a Chang'an that will never return.
The escape route has been cut off, and the system is just a silent recorder. There is no resurrection here, only one life.
From the recruits who couldn't hold their guns steady to the survivors who were bleeding on the city wall, Feng Yu's "Fuxi bloodline" awakened extremely slowly between life and death. This power is not a gift, but a chance to change his destiny little by little in exchange for his flesh and blood and fear. He knew that the fall of Anxi was the destined ending of history. But he also knew that now that he was here, he would never be willing to just be a number in this ending.
This is a journey that spans thousands of years.
The destination is not the throne, but to survive.
The first enemy is not history, but whether you can still breathe when the sun rises tomorrow.
"Fuxi's bloodline? It sounds amazing." Feng Yu spit out the blood foam in his mouth and looked at the hopelessly slow progress bar in the corner of his field of vision, "But before it can let me survive... I have to learn to rob, bite, and survive like a wild dog."
