The official roads collapsed, leaving only wilderness between villages and towns.
The filth eats people, and people are afraid of the filth - no one dares to touch a person who can cut off the filth even more than the filth.
They were removed from the register and died outside without a monument or posthumous title.
When people's hearts are in chaos, both good and evil become vain. For survival, for wealth, for power.
Only the fierce blood-drinking sword can cut a path for the common people.
Everyone avoided him, but the child picked up the sword and wiped it as if it were a treasure in the world.
The thorns on the road can be cut off with a swing of the sword.
In the end, she was left with only one person and one sword.
