Crossing the Magic Killing Line, I Overturn the Noble Card Table

Linn woke up on the cold stone slab, inheriting a body full of cracks and a swaying and vague memory. He saw: The dwarf craftsman has the power to create an era, but he follows an ancient "craftsman's motto" and never leaves the furnace and workshop throughout his life; The ancient wisdom of the elves is contained in the deep corridor of the college library, and the spine of the book is marked "ancient legends to be verified"; The powerful ancient songs of the orcs were adapted to the harmonies of church choirs, and the prophetic tablets long spoke of their "primordial gifts that had yet to be tamed." The two major temples have been arguing for hundreds of years over the luster and heraldic style of the silverware used in the ceremony, but they have remained silent about some kind of secret "soul power balance" that maintains the operation of this continent. Linn rubbed his forehead, where two completely different memories were whispering. One points to the vast unknown, and the other is sinking into the fading past. He raised the corner of his mouth slightly, determined to bring a little bit of difference to this precision-operated world.