“May I ask the azure sky: is it clear or bright? Raise a cup at the triangle, facing the eastern stream.” This is not corruption, only desolation, with a little resentment thrown in and mockery for the Nine Songs.
Magic is merely an experimental imitation distilled from sorcery. Most people in this world have become guinea pigs for those with ulterior motives. Follow someone chosen by fate as he endures countless partings and deaths, hardships and suffering, before finally exposing layer upon layer of conspiracy…
