At the Beginning, a Rusty Kitchen Knife Chopped Down the Gods.

The rain is like pus flowing out from the corpse of a dead god, with a lingering smell of rust and rotten earth, pouring endlessly on this corner forgotten by the world. Chen Ye woke up from the cold. That kind of coldness is not just the loss of body surface temperature, but more like countless tiny ice knives drilling into the bone marrow along the pores. It is the unique "cold evil" in the world of Nordic mythology, and it is the residual wind blowing from the territory of the Frost Giants. He opened his eyes suddenly and saw a leaking thatched roof, and the dark and damp room was filled with a musty smell. Before he could figure out the situation, his mind felt as if he was being forced into a machine that was mixing cement. The severe pain made him almost vomit.