The Revered Ancient mainland was quiet and lonely. A bleak wind blew. It didn’t come from the sea. Rather, the sustained pressure on heaven and earth caused the wind to spring up from other parts. The wind was building up, blowing from all directions before converging on Revered Ancient, whimpering like a sorrowful dirge to the dead.0

Within that wind were towering mountain ranges that looked like reclining dragons. But the spines of those dragons did not feature green scales, but rather, were covered with brown husks of earth. Plants and vegetation could not grow easily anymore. Lava oozed out of cracks in the mountains, scorching the mountain regions until they were like corpses.0

It was the year 31 in the Summer Departure calendar of humankind. It had been twenty-seven years since Grand Emperor Swordsage unleashed his sword. Things had been difficult in Revered Ancient for those twenty-seven years.1

Rumbling sounds echoed down from the canopy of heaven, like a countdown timer weighing onto all of the living beings in Revered Ancient. The sounds seem to be hastening them toward their demise. All the people could do was wait...0