Decades flowed excruciatingly slowly for those surviving in the war.
Each day was a blessing and each night slept well and without worries was worth celebrating.
With mounting battles and increasing deaths, though the number of cultivators and their ranks rose, the resources were depleted at a greater rate.
Those who did not die in battles were forced to fight with starvation.
New generations born and grown old in this cosmic war thought it normal, but the cultivators who had survived for the past century knew better.
They had seen peaceful times and nothing could be more depressing than the dystopian reality they were witnessing with their own eyes.
Among all the realms, however, the only being who wasn't affected by the length of this long and excruciating period of war was trapped inside the Abyssos Prison.
Inside, he had regained thoughts.
For a century, he had remained motionless and without consciousness.
