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Above The Sky

The first star that passed away extinguished two thousand years ago. Four hundred years later, the mysterious Calamity of Heavenly Fall destroyed the civilization of the previous era, returning thriving cultures to ignorance. Since then, stars gradually vanished, the Firmament grew dark and dim, and a new civilization rose from the starless wilderness, flourishing once more. Yet, what accompanied this were war, death, destruction, and hatred. The flames once aimed at the Firmament were used to slaughter the people of enemy nations, and the raining clouds once engineered to alter deserts were turned into floods that engulfed the land. Humans once again began to kill each other for wealth and power... but no one looked up at the sky. They lost the Guidance of the stars Above the Sky, forgetting the awe of gazing upon the Milky Way. They were all prisoners. One thousand six hundred years after the Calamity of Heavenly Fall, a young child awakened memories of his past life. He wanted to break the Cage, to throw off the shackles. He wanted to become a star. To return to Above the Sky. "I don't care about how the people of this world live, whether they're well-fed or not, whether they can dress warmly or live comfortably, whether they have dreams or hopes. I don't care about their loves and hates." "I just want to go Above the Sky." ——Ian.

Gloomy Sky Hidden God · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
80 Chs

Chapter 45: Turbine

Translator: 549690339

"The blood of a warrior," he pronounced, "shall be repaid with a hundred lives of Imperial People."

His mouth spoke these words, but his hands did not cease their work.

The Great Shaman gently picked up the two hearts that, although long removed from their chest, still beat vibrantly with a fresh red hue.

Then, he tenderly placed them in the crucible, onto the medicine mud that had turned thoroughly blood-red—a hue like molten lava or boiling blood.

As the hearts sank into the medicinal clay, the ritual reached its completion.

In the moment of bated breath, a visible spiritual brilliance flickered.

Inside the crucible, the murky medicine mud instantly turned pure and profound, and within a few breaths, the red slur of blood transformed into a kind of ink-like medicinal juice.

A clear and pure 'Blood Ink'.