People living within the river of time were often unable to see the true face of the era they inhabited.
Some steadfastly carried out their seemingly wonderful plans, full of hope; some were battered by reality until they wholly sank into mediocre mortal lives; some even made deals with dark gods and Abyssal Demons.
If the mottled pages of history were opened in the future, many scholars would surely mark the Year of the Valley Calendar 1306 as a crucial historical turning point.
From Li Wei's perspective, he saw only Luskan brazenly launching the Moonsea War, heedless of the disapproving looks from the coastal nations.
He saw Calimshan's puppet-like Syl-Pasha, heedless of his subjects' lives and deaths in his bid to reclaim their royal court, driving them onto the battlefield like cattle and sheep.
If one shifted their gaze to distant Mulhorand on the eastern continent, they would see that this ancient city-state, having successfully weathered the fallout of the war among the gods, had continued to linger on for many years before finally being conquered amid billowing smoke and flames by a coalition of surrounding city-states.
The kingdom fell. Its ancient palace, steeped in a thousand years of history, burned fiercely beneath the flames. The earth was branded with the marks of thundering iron hooves, and living beings suffered bitterly beneath the trampling of war.
The casualties there far surpassed those in Calimshan at this moment.
Countless dead souls rose into the sky, flowing down along the River Styx and passing through the realm of the dead—the Fugue Plane.
This vast, empty expanse was flat, gray, dull, and monotonous, seeming to contain nothing but the countless dead souls gathered here.
And deep within this gray desert stood a fortress piled high from innumerable bones.
Many years ago, it had