Chronicles of the Talisman Master

In ancient times, there was talk of the Nine Provinces;

Yunzhou's mountains and forests were thick with tangled growth. Woodcutters dared not venture deep, and singers dared not raise their voices;

Three hundred thousand li to the south, Leizhou was ceaselessly scourged by heavenly punishment, with nine winding thunder dragons stretching across the land. Cultivators from the Nine Provinces flocked there;

In Zhongzhou, dynasties rose and fell, each seeking to seize a province and contend for supremacy, yet none noticed the old fisherman in the inland sea, stroking his beard and laughing heartily; the wild mountains linked together, rising high at the center. On Yuezhou's sacred mountain, neither those who knelt and kowtowed nine times nor those who sought with all their heart could find an immortal;

In ancient times, there was a prophecy: one would pass on a sword, cut off Yunzhou's towering peaks, tear apart the boundary between yin and yang, shatter the dragon veins of the seven provinces, and forge the Nine Provinces into a single sword, restoring order;

These Nine Provinces, where talent flourished and strange beasts soared through the skies, had endured for thousands of years. How could they be an ordinary place?

A youth stepped out of Yunzhou's mountain forests, a long sword gleaming coldly on his back. Along this journey, how many times would the seasons turn?

The historian set down his brush. On the page, he wrote: "Summon the incense, and honor the ancestors with offerings."