Time was the most merciless thing in this world, yet also the fairest.
In the blink of an eye, countless years had passed.
The edges of that world-destroying Great Calamity had finally been worn smooth by the years in the memories of mortals and low-level cultivators, turning into an absurd bedtime tale told by storytellers in bustling teahouses.
Mortals still rose to work at sunrise and rested at sunset, quarreling over a few copper coins and laughing over everyday family affairs.
They had no idea that the sky above their heads had long since been replaced.
The low-level cultivators merely felt that the spiritual energy between heaven and earth seemed more abundant and gentler.
Cultivation seemed a little easier to them than their ancestors' records suggested.
Those mighty beings at the apex of the pyramid, however, perceived with awe that the world's laws had become more stable than ever before.
Unlike the low-level cultivators, they felt that breaking through had become harder.
Even the system of cultivation was undergoing some subtle change amid this imperceptible transformation.
The old order had been buried, and the new era was bursting into bloom.
Everything was flourishing.
Except... Undying Mountain.
For Xie Changsheng, Song Chi, Zhou Yan, and the others, this perfect new world felt so hollow.
That person was gone.
The "sun" in their hearts had gone out.
They had won the war, but lost the meaning of gathering together.
They found they could no longer sit around that stone table and laugh without a care as they once had.
Because whenever they saw one another's faces, they thought of that person.
"This new world..."
"Is so dull."
One morning, Song Chi stood at the edge of a cliff on Undying Mountain, letting the mountain wind brush through his silver hair.
Sword in