The Era is nearing its end, and all races struggle to cross the tribulations. A boy regarded as worthless carries within him the final spark left behind by the previous Era. He is destined to ignite the eternal light in an age when the Dao is in decline.
The universe is not singular. It is made up of countless overlapping Eras, surging like waves and flickering like candles.
Every Era is a complete cycle, from birth to destruction. From the dawn of chaos to the height of civilization, from the warring of countless races to the final cataclysm, all things ultimately return to nothingness, awaiting the next Era's rebirth.
This Era has now lasted ten billion years--
Only ten thousand years remain before the Final Calamity.
To a mortal, ten thousand years is an impossibly distant river of time. To the universe, it is the final countdown. The spiritual energy of heaven and earth is beginning to run dry, the laws of the Great Dao are developing cracks, and the forbidden beings sleeping in the depths of the Era are slowly opening their eyes.
And in one of the most inconspicuous low-level planes among the three thousand lower realms, the Cangxuan Realm, a boy lay on a boulder on a barren mountain. With a blade of foxtail grass in his mouth, he gazed at the blood-red setting sun spilling through a crack in the firmament and yawned lazily.
He knew nothing of Eras or the Final Calamity.
All he knew was that he hadn't eaten today.
---Eternal Era---
