The cosmos, resplendent and beautiful, yet also cold and solitary.
A dilapidated tall tower ship drifted aimlessly through the starry sky.
The vessel had traversed countless places, bearing the scars of time and the weather.
It was roughly a hundred zhang long, with a dark golden body. Its flaking, mottled outer layer was topped by a flag, torn with several large holes and faded to white, that fluttered without wind. It bore the words 'Qianyuan Mountain' as if in one final act of defiance.
In the vastness of space, this tower ship was no different from a speck of dust.
Unknown to many, those three characters once symbolized a glorious cultivation holy land that ruled over a dozen natural planets and hundreds of transformed ones—a behemoth.
But as always, all that was splendid has been eroded by rain and windswept away.
Now, the glory had faded, and all that was left of Qianyuan Mountain for posterity was this broken-down tower ship.
