I peeked into this vast world in the shadows.

For tens of thousands of years, the color of the sky has not changed, and even the harshest war cannot erase its innate pure white brilliance.

It seemed as if it was staring quietly, staring at the change of life and the rise and fall of civilization on this land.

I have seen peace give birth to the flowers of hope, buried and rooted in the depths of the invisible soil; and where the light of candlelight is illuminated, the power of faith is passed down.

I also heard the lonely song of a minstrel in the wind, jumping clearly in the pale snow, in the vast abyss, in the firelight of the interweaving and collision of swords and magic.

When I was young, I liked loneliness, dusk, sunset, joys and sorrows; I liked blood and fallen leaves, sword light and death; I liked the mist and unknown of the night, I liked to play the ignorant lover, and I liked to be called "hero".

I had longed for eternal revenge and tried to find the truth of history until my hands were covered in blood and there was no one around me. My appearance and energy were no longer the same as before.

In a trance, I was already drooling.

And those young and frivolous impulses will eventually turn into a raised corner of the mouth on the easy chair, bringing some satisfaction on a calm morning or a peaceful afternoon.

I looked up at the sky, and a few birds passed by, they flapped their wings lightly, and made high and unique notes from their mouths, which were names that seemed to have been forgotten by the world.
Chapter completed!