The high-level plane descends, and the God of Destiny opens his eyes.
Seven hundred and thirty countries were dragged into a secret battlefield - using their country's historical heritage as a sword, the winner would plunder the country's destiny, and the loser's civilization would be wiped out.
Xia Guo lost seven battles in a row.
Ancient books were burned, dragon veins were cut off, and even the names of the weapons in the hands of the terracotta warriors and horses could not be answered.
The barrage said: That country that can't even remember the names of its own gods should be destroyed.
Then I stood up.
The 82nd generation descendant of Mojin Xiaowei, the ancestral "Mausoleum Genealogy" contains four hundred unnamed tombs.
They laughed at the Xia Kingdom for not having a myth.
I moved the Guishan Han Tomb into the battlefield, and Liu Zhu waited for two thousand years for the Xingxu chess game, which made the Western knight kneel down and admit defeat.
They laughed at Xia for not having an epic.
I rang the bell of Marquis Yi of Zeng, one bell has two tones, the right rhythm is for the king and the rhythm is for the murder. Twenty-four hundred years ago, Le Zheng sat up from the burial coffin and took my hammer.
They said that all the gods of Xia Kingdom were dead long ago.
In the semi-finals, I only opened the East Palace of the Tomb of the First Emperor.
The mercury terracotta warriors and horses came out in formation, with two thousand two hundred years of killing intent condensed on their armor.
——I'm not here for revenge.
I am here to tell those people whose history books have no records, whose tombs have no monuments, and whose tombs have no one to sweep them:
Some people will remember you in future generations.
Every star, every chime, every mercury figurine.
You are not nameless.
You are Xia Kingdom, the last secret realm.
