The ancient bells echoed in Adra's church, and the throne of Foel is covered with dust of years. Stupid scholars compiled lies praising the gods, praying for the passion of fate and the immortality of creatures. The cunning executioner used a hypocritical blade to split the candlelight, and the bones of the bards were hidden under the embers in the deep space. One day, when miracles are no longer mysterious, when freedom is no longer heavy, when legends are no longer far away, someone will stand up without hesitation, knock on the edge of fate, carry the blood and tears of history, and move forward bravely. Such people are called heroes! (Traditional fantasy, not fast food, not invincible, so they may be written very slowly