Daoist Sovereign
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In the blink of an eye, many years had passed. We had grown old.
The brothers who had stood by and supported me all this time had grown old as well.
Could we still fight?
All was vast and desolate; no one answered...
Alas!
A worn old horse with a dull coat carried its rider over mountains and rivers. At a barren old battlefield, the rider dismounted and pulled a dust-covered scrap of rotten cloth from the ground, shaking a faceful of ash from it—a tattered flag embroidered with the character "Leap," waiting for the wind to set it flying...
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