The lost histories of immortals and gods lie in the deepest mists, as magnificent as eternal stars. So much time has passed that many legends can no longer be traced. Time flies, and all living things change in the blink of an eye. I've forgotten many tales of immortals, even their famous names. Thankfully, one insignificant legend remains. It feels like a long dream I had just yesterday, one I sometimes sink into and don't wish to wake from. The story begins a very, very long time ago. The epic of immortal heroes slowly unfolds as the dust of time is swept away. The mighty and unrivaled canon of artifact cultivation paints a grand, turbulent picture, while the long-dormant lineage of immortal swords gradually emerges. A tale that shakes heaven and earth and makes ghosts weep sweeps toward us like a raging sandstorm, covering the sky and engulfing everything. Amid the endless fragments, all one can see is frenzied writing, the characters dancing like dragons and phoenixes, their strokes spanning rivers and mountains. The plot is like a dream of bygone eras, roaming beyond heaven and earth.
