Chapter 1308: It’s Been So Long, Revered Ancient
The Revered Ancient mainland was quiet and lonely. A bleak wind blew. It didn’t come from the sea. Rather, the sustained pressure on heaven and earth caused the wind to spring up from other parts. The wind was building up, blowing from all directions before converging on Revered Ancient, whimpering like a sorrowful dirge to the dead.
Within that wind were towering mountain ranges that looked like reclining dragons. But the spines of those dragons did not feature green scales, but rather, were covered with brown husks of earth. Plants and vegetation could not grow easily anymore. Lava oozed out of cracks in the mountains, scorching the mountain regions until they were like corpses.
It was the year 31 in the Summer Departure calendar of humankind. It had been twenty-seven years since Grand Emperor Swordsage unleashed his sword. Things had been difficult in Revered Ancient for those twenty-seven years.
Rumbling sounds echoed down from the canopy of heaven, like a countdown timer weighing onto all of the living beings in Revered Ancient. The sounds seem to be hastening them toward their demise. All the people could do was wait to die. Despair didn’t just fill heaven and earth. It grew in the hearts of the people. And it had been going on for twenty-seven years.
And thus... though Frost Descent had not yet arrived, heaven and earth were filled with a somber and desolate feeling.[1]
In Revered Ancient, the mountains became like corpses. The plants and vegetation withered. Mutagen levels rose. Leaden clouds clung to the sky, only to be occasionally pierced by scattered bits of blood-red sunlight. The spots below where the light hit looked like crisscrossed blade wounds.
It became harder and harder to stay alive. The north had been sparsely populated to begin with. On the ice plains, groaning sounds echoed out as mysterious glaciers which had been around for thousands of years now started to crack and crumble. Sealed within the fragments of ice was grief from antiquity, and as the cold wind blew, the withered weeds bent down to cover the corpses on the ground.
The despair was worse in the south. Different species began to fight over supplies, until the entire place devolved into war. As the countdown to death continued, better supplies could lead to better gifts of tribute, and that became the hope of many species. Seven years ago, a decree had descended from the holy lands beyond the dome of heaven.
“When we arrive, the five species who offer the best tribute will be spared from annihilation.”
War became increasingly common.
However, about a year before, something dramatic happened in the sky, and the wars became less common. But the corpses on the battlefield, and the wind-dried blood bore testament to the chaos that had ensued.
No matter how the wind scraped across the battlefield, it couldn’t take away the stench of gore. All it did was make the prayer flags and battle banners on the broken weapons flap a bit harder. That created a sound like the whimper that precedes death, which became a part of the wind. All of the Revered Ancient mainland felt immense pressure.