The second day of the second month—Dragon Raises Head.
Auspicious for sacrifices, breaking ground, raising beams, and forging alliances.
The Dragon Palace Banquet began.
In the upper reaches of the Yellow River, within the expanse overlooked by Heavenly Horse Plateau, ninety thousand zhang beneath the Long River's waters, a magnificent palace finally parted the muddy waves, lifting the veil woven of time and space before the people's eyes.
It retained an ancient architectural style—tall, vast, majestic. Its courtyard pillars were like pillars of heaven, its palace gates like Heaven Gates.
Its palace walls were built from enormous, translucent square crystal bricks. Looking up, one could not see their tops; looking left or right, one could not see their ends. Even the boundless Long River seemed scarcely able to contain it.
The walls bore mottled traces of time. Not the weathering of decades or centuries, nor merely the caress of millennia or tens of thousands of years, but the turning of one great era after another. The tides of time had swept away all that came before, leaving only marks that could not be erased.
It was a living fossil of the Ancient Era—history itself!
Jiang Wang now stood outside the gates of the Long River Dragon Palace, as though he had arrived in that age when the Demon Race's Heavenly Court stood supreme and the Dragon Race called themselves above the Heavenly Court.
Exaggerated dragon motifs could be seen everywhere before him. Ten thousand qing of waves hung overhead, and great fish could be seen swimming past. Yet they seemed to belong to another time and space, visible but beyond reach.
What immense power time possessed!
Even a miracle of creation such as this had had its splendor worn away.
At least tens of millions of living beings must