An ancient continent, a shared mythology.
Between the palace walls and curtains of the East, beneath the ancient forests and desolate deserts of the Western Regions, one can still seem to hear the ancient demon gods sighing.
The world was once vast, so vast that the civilizations scattered across it endured countless upheavals and transformations without ever knowing one another existed.
When the iron hooves of Eastern civilization reached the boundless sea of sand on the western frontier, and the heroes who had spent half their lives at war unrolled a bloodstained map, the ancient oracles and prophecies spoke wordlessly: this was the boundary of civilization.
But the journey would never end, and the gods' prophecies were destined to be rewritten.
Stone axes and vine bows were destined to meet iron armor and powerful crossbows. Tribes and empires, civilizations separated by two entire eras, would face off on this ancient land.
When the thunder of war drums and thick plumes of smoke swept across the tranquil Tianhu Plain,
the cloud seas and setting sun that had once passed overhead in peace had become ominous and unpredictable.
The earth shook beneath iron hooves, and heroes lay forever in pools of blood.
A solitary figure, carrying a blood-soaked long saber with a jagged edge, crossed the ruins left by war and charged into the enemy's hail of spears and arrows.
The red sun still rose, while the yellow sand quietly buried the cruelty of civilization.
But a new chapter in civilization had only just begun...
