Mythic Nirvana

Years later, anyone with a bit of experience in the martial world would still remember the bloodshed of that year.

The chaotic battle between good and evil raged until heaven and earth grew dark. Countless martial artists were slaughtered by the Demon Cult, their bodies left beyond recognition. They say that even the rain could not wash away the suffocating stench of blood after the battle...

Blood... Countless blades were coated in thick, viscous gore, and droplets splattered across even the leaves in the bamboo grove.

People... Countless bodies lay sprawled across the ground in every imaginable pose. They no longer cared who had been righteous and who had been wicked.

Now they would speak no more, feel no hatred, and never rise again...

Although the battle wiped out the Demon Cult that had dominated the land, it also cost the lives of countless righteous martial artists, including the leader of the martial world at the time.

Even now, when the martial artists of old gather for drinks, they still sigh over it: How could the leader have died so young...? Some hot-blooded men even smash their wine bowls on the ground, lamenting that they never got to meet that generation's leader of the martial world, a regret they will carry to their graves.