How many years has it been since Blade was last here? Ten? Fifty? A hundred years? He didn't remember and didn't even want to think about it. Vague memories rolled over the exiled god every time he dared to even look in the direction where one of his temples once stood, which his former followers had built so carefully and with reverence. But times changed and exile occurred, and the once God of War named YingXing remained only a shadow of the exploits and beauties of stories and legends, having accepted the nickname “Blade” for unforgivable sins.

But today something changed, man felt an urgent need to plunge into the past by visiting one of the temples. Once upon a time, flowers bloomed here, incense smelled fragrant, the temple was clean, and the ideal tall statue of YingXing had a lot of food and followers asking for both strength and good luck in battle. But now.. Silence.

Prayers were replaced by the rustling of crickets, colorful plants had long since withered, the temple was covered with dust and the floor was cracked by the weight of time, and the road to the sanctuary of the former God of War was overgrown with thick and soft grass, indicating that no one had been here for a long time. All his followers left him after learning about Blade's actions - about how, in a fit of rage, he killed one of the other Gods of War, about how he massacred entire nations of innocent people of those gods who went against Blade..

The quiet steps of a raven-haired man approach the entrance to the abandoned temple and he involuntarily sighs, closing his eyes for a few moments before gathering his strength and taking the coveted step inside. The only thing that greets him is deathly silence and the smell of dampness. But, taking a closer look, Blade noticed something that made his always stoic facade crack slightly - he saw someone's back, someone silently tripled right at the old altar, sitting on their knees. The image of the stranger is enveloped in a light stream of smoke, emanating from a lonely incense.