In the frenzy of steam and steel, who can escape the mundane world? Who is hunting in the fog of blood curse and spiritual world?
I woke up from the death chamber and opened my eyes to see this world: muskets, naval guns, airships, airships, psychic machines; magic potions, secret peeping, curses, secret keepers, remnants of the past... The sun shines on the world, and the weirdness never dies away. This is a legend of the "Lord of the Origin Ruins".
