The dragon clan is dead and the totem has withered.
The prehistoric beasts that once dominated the thirty-six caves were annihilated in a "Battle of the Heavens" that was lost in history. Only Xuanzhu guards the second cave sky, where the phoenix bathes in the fire, the peacock flaunts its feathers, and the roc looks sternly, maintaining the fragile balance.
And I crawled out from the ultimate ruins of the dragon clan's fall.
Carrying a scorching guide, the reverse scale has a pair of golden eyes that reveal secrets. The golden-winged roc regards me as a remnant that must be eliminated, the colorful peacock wants to take me into its wings, and the silent Xuanzhu casts an unfathomable glance.
When I stepped into the Lushan cave where the undercurrent of the Orc Alliance was surging, I realized that my awakening was not a miracle.
It is the final prologue of this catastrophe that has swept all souls.
