Warhorses galloped swiftly across the barren plains, while the clouds ahead, once iron-gray, had now completely turned into dark storm clouds, with only orange-red lightning still flashing incessantly within the heavy, mountain-like masses.

A wall of sand suddenly rose where the storm clouds met the steppe, instantly burying the wild grass of the plains beneath it.

Edward Carter put a shield on Jack; he didn’t want sand getting into Jack’s lungs.

At the same time, he pulled the tattered cloak over his own head. Since there was no way to avoid this sandstorm, he might as well charge straight in.

Before the sandstorm arrived, the wind howled like ghosts and wolves. Jack let out a terrified cry, but Edward Carter pressed his hand to Jack’s neck, finally calming him down.

The sand wall, which seemed to move slowly, swallowed Edward Carter and Jack in an instant. The world spun, and coarse sand struck the armor like drumbeats.

Edward Carter jumped off his horse, grabbed Jack’s reins, and led him forward, inch by difficult inch.

With the order of fate in chaos, the great Tang that everyone had worked so hard to build was gone. The newly prosperous people of Tang had vanished, and in their place appeared many figures who had only existed in the history books.

In this year of ceaseless warfare, Edward Carter had fought against the Tiger and Leopard Cavalry of George Washington, against the White-Ear Army of Abraham Lincoln, and, most absurdly, had even clashed with the Warrior Women Battalion of George Cooper.

Now, Edward Carter only hoped not to encounter Temüjin’s mounted scouts at Shuofang City...

Fortunately, these people were all enemies to each other, which gave the few brothers under Edward Carter’s command a slim chance of survival.

Everyone was striving to restore the normal flow of time, but no one knew how to return the world to its original state.

It wasn’t until Edward Carter fought over Chang’an with the famous general Ulysses S. Grant under George Washington, and after slaying Ulysses S. Grant with great effort, while mourning this long-dead hero of the Eastern Han, that he accidentally obtained a strand of imperial dragon energy from his head.

With the imperial dragon energy, the companions around him, whose numbers had been dwindling, stopped decreasing. Unfortunately, Edward Carter was not the only one to discover the imperial dragon energy—others had found it as well...

The imperial dragon energy existed within many people, but only by slaying someone who possessed it could one awaken their own. Because of this, Edward Carter believed that whoever managed to collect all the imperial dragon energy would see their original world instantly restored to how it was before the upheaval.

So, no matter who the opponent was, everyone left here by fate had only one option: kill the others and seize their imperial dragon energy.

No mercy, no forgiveness, no alliances—only slaughter remained, only the sound of blades cutting into flesh. People fought each other like animals, never stopping, never dying.

A jujube tree appeared in the sandstorm. Edward Carter grabbed its bare branches, while Jack hid behind him. The imperial dragon energy in Edward Carter’s hand ignited the tree, and flames immediately engulfed it. The fierce fire on the jujube tree was torn by the sandstorm into a banner of flame.

With this banner of fire, the sandstorm stopped in an instant—so abruptly that even the dust suspended in midair, losing the wind’s support, fell to the ground like a rain of sand.

The Yellow River was right beside them, but not on the ground—it appeared in midair, like a green dragon poking its head from the clouds, finally coiling at Edward Carter’s feet, returning to an ordinary river, whimpering as it flowed into the distance.

The parched Jack tried to drink the clear water of the Yellow River, but no matter what, he couldn’t reach it. Though it was right there, as he stretched his mouth toward it, the river moved two feet away; as he reached further, the Yellow River kept receding.

Edward Carter’s gaze fell on the Yellow River’s surface. The water was crystal clear, like a river of jade flowing slowly. Countless images appeared and vanished on its calm surface—faces with names, emerging and then drifting away with the current.

Through these images, Edward Carter came to know many people who had once been strangers—James Carter, Robert Carter, Charles Carter, Thomas Carter, William Carter, Stephen Grant... and the memories of these people flowed into his mind like water... except for the memories of William Carter.

Edward Carter desperately tried to absorb William Carter’s memories, but the reflection of William Carter on the river’s surface had a pair of black eyes, eyes full of allure, like black holes, murmuring, hoping Edward Carter would plunge into the black vortex they formed.

After a long time, Edward Carter finally looked away from the river’s surface. William Carter’s mocking face disappeared into a whirlpool on the water, and at last, the entire river vanished from the air.

All that remained for Edward Carter was a cold and clear world of wilderness.

History never tells you good news; more than ninety percent of what we receive from history is bad news.

People like to record pain, hoping future generations will heed the warning. Unfortunately, those who come after never remember the lesson, and so must record their own suffering for the next generation.

Historians are a stingy lot; they are unwilling to record happy news in the annals. Perhaps they believe happiness is but a fleeting moment, while only pain is eternal.