Born in the Dark Soil Sword

[Non-routine] [No system] [No novice] [Sword repair main line] [Group portrait narrative] [Thick and slow burning] Natural disasters continue year after year. Ordinary people struggle to survive in the cracks, but there are mountains one after another in the clouds. Thousands of years of difference between ordinary people and ordinary people are gradually erased by the flames of war and the hearts of the people. The husband said to him: When you were running around in the small town, trying to make a living, you are now standing on the top of the mountain, holding a sword in your hand, and the distant mountains and rivers you see are different. He was born in a remote town, and came and went in the dust. The hand stretched out by the world pushed him to the path of spiritual practice. Without the protection of his teachers and his talent, he could only live toward death. He split the sunless world with one sword. Along the way, he saw that mountains are mountains, mountains are not mountains, and mountains are still mountains.