The rising sun, as it is known in this world, still sleeps behind the horizon. The savage and rough earth slowly unfolded. Mountains wind like knuckles among the low hills. Palaces and mansions with deliberately imitation shapes are entrenched on the hills. The contours of this planet resemble the many stars of the zenith, and the tranquility and elegance of it are simply unknown to the natives. They are scattered and inhabited, ignorant and ignorant, unaware that they have long since surrendered to great power, let alone the predicament in which they find themselves.

The fiery light I gathered in my path shone on the world below me. Tiny lives overflowing with strife, fear, and joy are enjoying themselves in cramped corners. They looked up at me as I crossed the sky, and it was so sad and lovely. I have heard their calls to me: prophets, comets, monsters, gods, demons, and so on, and so on, but none of them are accurate.

In a flat desert, there was a familiar sting sensation of magic, sourced from the original civilization that had risen among the wilderness. And behold, a huge sun wheel is about to be completed. When the poor slaves saw my trail, they couldn't help but grab the ground with their heads. Their cruel masters regard my fiery meteor-like figure as an unshakable omen. My traces will be respectfully engraved on the plain rocks by them in humble figures, and they will praise the transcendent comets as the gods' approval of their deeds. The sole purpose of the Sun Wheel is to channel the sun's abundant splendor into the bodies of the greatest of these humanoids, transforming them into the most desired beings on the planet: the embarrassing "demigods". This effort will surely lead to a burn. But I suspect that they will survive for a while, maybe a thousand years or so, and then they will fall into decay and be replaced by other populations.

I continued onward, paddling over the parched grassland. The desert was sinking into darkness behind me. The brown rocks are dotted with greenery, and it looks like an idyllic paradise. However, beneath the serene surface lies bloodstains and corpses. The battle was already lost, and the survivors raised their crude axes and shouted for a bloody way. The head of the middle-aged man was pierced by a javelin and nailed to the dirt floor, flanked by a warrior still struggling and screaming. The few were surrounded by soldiers riding rough beasts.

When the people who were trapped in the beast saw me, they seemed to be instantly ignited. They dragged their broken bodies, grabbed axes and bows and arrows, and broke through with the enemy. I'm not interested in watching their little fights, because I've seen them thousands of times: the surviving people carved the comet into the cave walls. Thousands of years from now, their descendants will put my image on banners and banners, and once again join the same dull and senseless battles. And to those who record history, he must ask why they never learn their lessons. And this kind of lesson has also put me in a strange situation.

The cycle of heavenly principles, and let them indulge in it themselves.

My track staggered with more residents. Their common reaction was not surprising: they pointed and pointed, got down on their knees, and then erected a stone platform and offered virgins and boys. They looked up at the sky and saw a comet passing by, never looking for what was really beneath the glorious exterior, but merging it into their self-righteous worldview, and my solemn face was forever obscured. A few more civilized races, only relatively speaking, will look up and note my trajectory in their scientific calendars, rather than simply as material for the prophets. Although there is no lack of novelty, even a race of such intelligence has a common phenomenon of biased assumption that I appear according to the law of a fixed trajectory. Alas, what a miss. Still, I don't have to expect much from these simple-minded terrestrial creatures. They can't be blamed for that either. It seems that if the laws of evolution are to become a program in this world, they will have to go through quite a bit of twists and turns.

However, the novelty that these young animals brought to me was almost gone. The force that held my magic in prison dragged me from one barren world to another centuries ago. Now, it leads me back to the familiar boulder. The dissolved sunlight that fills the surface of this stone ball comes from the most ancient creations of my love and radiance. Ah, the moment when she first sprinkled her own light on thousands of living beings, it was only for me, as a starter, that I was fated to see it. I miss it so much, the stars bursting with warm energy, caressing my face and fingertips. Each star inspires a unique energy that reflects the spirit of the Creator, like a precious gem. They are the flakes of the universe that burn lightly, resisting the boundless darkness.

Unfortunately, my cherished memories are now overshadowed by betrayal. Yes, this is where the Titans led me into a cage. But now is not the time to dwell on the past. Those old Star Spirits wanted me to come and quell yet another rebellion, of course, in their name.

Then I saw her. This warrior of all kinds, wielding a spear made of star gemstones, stood alone on the top of a small mountain. She stared at me through the armor on her face, like a spark disguised as lightning. A thick brown braid slid from her shoulders to her chest and landed on her golden breastplate. Her body was freckled, and her skin was pale. Her eyes were the only ones on her face that weren't covered by a helmet, bursting with blood-red light.

She calls herself Pan Sen, the embodiment of the Titan Divine Fighting Intent. She's not the first warrior in the world to bear the title of Panson, and certainly won't be the last.

She lifted her muscular arms, her glittering cloak flipped open, and leaned back, as if dragging a majestic chain. And my body, bound by the cruel contract, suddenly rolled involuntarily, lost my balance, and fell straight towards the top of the hill where she stood. She started yelling at me.

Her voice pierced through my head through this crown of stars with a thousand cuts, and it exploded. The rest of the voices died down.

"Dragon," she called me, as if I were a wretched winged creature spitting orange flames, and it was a blessing to set a tree on fire.

"Seal their gates," her small spear commanded, pointing at a crack at the foot of the mountain. A conspicuous purple miasma spread down the mountain, which turned out to be the source of the stench I had smelled before I even arrived. And I turned my gaze to Panson, who apparently thought of me like a dog on a leash. Today is different, I've learned my lesson.

"Dragon," I whispered. "With such a shoddy name, give orders to me. Are you sure you're wise enough?"

Pan Sen's palm on the spear loosened slightly, rubbing against the spear. But after only a moment, she took a step back, as if the distance would allow her to avoid my wrath.

"Seal their doors." She yelled even louder, like I hadn't heard her command. Her volume didn't drown out the tremors in her voice. She pointed her spear at me, as if she thought that such a small toothpick would be able to pierce me.

This is the first time I've seen a giant god's star spirit tremble. She was clearly not used to repeating her orders in front of me.

"I'll deal with those disgusting minions, and I won't miss the time, my dear, Panson.".

"Listen to me, dragon." Panson shouted again. "Otherwise, the world will be overturned."

"This world has been overturned long before the giant gods were arrogant."