Thousands of years of prehistoric times, thousands of years of waiting, on the grassland where all gods are destroyed,
Only the lonely wind is left passing through.
Under the cold moonlight, the indifferent figure can still look at the way home in the distance.
Among the surging rivers, vast mist, and thousands of years of singing, who left behind that graceful dancing posture?
In the grand volume of history, whose whisper is still ringing in my ears.
The stubborn face cannot withstand the indifferent care, and the gentle whisper is the barrier to distance.
In the chaotic world, the fierce battlefield, the veil of death is gently lifted,
The boiling blood and forbidden mantras chant the trembling deep in the soul.
Looking at the world with a cold eye, the truth is always accompanied by absurdity. Smiling proudly, one sword can determine the country.
In the bloody fire, is the world destroyed or reborn?
Troubadours travel thousands of miles, whether they faithfully record or make up wildly.
In the place of divine silence, the parting figure is singing in a low voice:
Canghai laughed, looking away from the scars of the world of mortals.
The prequel is just an ordinary romance. If you like dandy, you can start watching the main story.