A cultivator who has practiced for many years but still cannot feel the basic energy of his sect exudes the domineering aura of a king like an eagle returning to heaven and earth after being driven down the mountain. A cultivator who is tempered in the military camp, a cultivator who changes under the shroud of death. Faced with all this, how should the wheel of fate turn, and how should he choose, whether to kill gods or surrender to heaven and earth forever?