The next moment, thunderous booms rang out from above the firmament. In the next instant, an enormous ball of light arrived before Ye Lin.
It was a long sword. Its jet-black blade was adorned with streaks of flowing gold, while its hilt was wrapped in strips of black cloth.
The moment Ye Lin saw those black strips, he understood. They had originally been white; the blackness was blood. Countless amounts of blood had forcibly dyed the strips black.
The blade was covered in scars as well, terrifying scars, each one seeming to be filled with a story of its own.
The entire long sword looked as though it had weathered the vicissitudes of countless ages, ancient beyond measure.
Its blade was steeped in the weight of history. An aura from time immemorial rushed toward him—desolation, eternity, loneliness.
For a moment, Ye Lin's eyes actually grew moist. This sword bore the fate of the entire Human Race, carried the history of the entire Human Race, and recorded that invincible figure who belonged to the Human Race alone.
The Human Race's Emperor alone—the true Emperor of the Human Race, the supreme and Unrivaled Emperor.
Looking upon this sword, Ye Lin seemed to cross space itself and return to the primordial era.
It had been a dark age when the myriad races stood side by side, while the Human Race was treated no better than pigs and dogs. The myriad races stood high above, penning humans like livestock.
Yet in such a dark era, the Human Emperor had risen into being. He led the Human Race from humiliation to its pinnacle, bringing the entire Human Race to heights that did not belong to him alone.
In that era, the Human Race revered neither Heaven nor Earth, only the Human Emperor. The Human Emperor