Ever since this war between the myriad races and the dragons began at Morningstar City, it had been like a mill grinding flesh and blood.
Every day, vast numbers of living beings were buried beneath the heavy snow, and even the earth was stained red.
Broken blades, spears, swords, and halberds stood everywhere across the battlefield. Their owners had long since fallen into the dust, to become handfuls of yellow sand millions of years later.
The mighty fell; the weak died in battle.
Across the entire battlefield, fierce fighting raged everywhere.
Behind Morningstar City, armies of the myriad races poured in without end every day.
Likewise, behind the true dragons' camp, the dragon beasts of the Northern Continent were driven forward in an unending stream.
One day, two days... one month, two months... one year...
By this point in the fighting, both the myriad races and the true dragons had suffered grievous losses, yet neither dared stop.
Hatred had gathered into an ocean, and the consequences of either side's defeat were more than either could bear.
In troubled times, there were always those who rode the tides of fortune and soared upon the wind.
Countless heroes rose to prominence in this war!
There was Basaka, a human berserker who had begun as a common soldier, eaten the flesh of fallen true dragons raw on the battlefield, and attained the Third Step after being granted a Sacred Relic!
There was Dracula, a Blood Clan count who had drunk the blood of multiple true dragons, advanced on the battlefield, and slaughtered foes in every direction!
There was Thranduil, an Elf prince who had awakened his ancestral bloodline in a battle of life and death!
There was also Grom, a sword saint of the Beastman Race who practiced a special ancient cultivation art,