Battle of the Ancients.

Joy, misery, mystery. Eras pass, decades slip through their fingers, they are considered gods by the mortals who inhabit the planet. Most legends pass with time as those that once remembered it slowly pass away, their children no longer remembering the stories that they were told by their parents as they drifted to sleep.

But there are some moments that will never be forgotten, moments that are worthy to be written in ancient scriptures.

One of those moments was unfolding at this very moment, thousands of people facing each other split by a huge chasm, the air bending around their bodies as they floated lightly in the air. One side adorning pure red robes stood on the left, while the others had a variety of different robes with differing insignia on the right.

A staunch Middle Aged man stood in vibrant red robes and led the people on the left. Whereas a decrepit old man stood on the right wearing a robe depicting a golden man, a peculiar insignia in the midst of all the mythical creatures of the other leading figures. But if one looked carefully you would find a majority of the strongmen in the air donned the same insignia.

With no exchange between them both sides started. The two groups immediately found partners, flashing powers were shown depicting countless mythical creatures. Each light punch or sweep of the hand could easily destroy mountains. And that's exactly what it did.

The once flourishing nature around the chasm quickly deteriorated into desolate holes and fine powder which were once living creatures. No one had survived within hundreds and thousands of meters from the fight.

But a clear discrepancy between the two sides was quickly shown. The red robed warriors showed much stronger unity and cooperation, knocking off their opponents with huge snakes coiling around golden tigers, the perfect use of combination attacks.

The mismatched team quickly fell into the losing side, as harrowed screams echoed and drops of golden blood fell to the ground causing the dried sand to regain some vitality.

As their numbers dwindled they started to get nervous, they were barely the opponents of one red robes warrior let alone now they are being bombarded by multiple. The thought of escaping had passed through their heads multiple times.

The panic on his team's faces wasn't missed by the old man, naturally an antique like this was well versed in human emotions.

With a slight sigh he had no choice but to take drastic action, his long robe swished in the air as a small almost ignorable org appeared. But the pressure that the orb brought wasn't ignorable by a majority of the people there.

Even the middle aged man showed panic on his once indifferent face at this point as he watched his followers fall to their knees one by one.

''You were a fair opponent, it was your bad luck to be born in this era'' the old man gave a look of pity towards the man.

''Haha I wouldn't say that, I lived a long life'' unexpectedly the man didn't show any remorse or regret, he even showed a sense of relief.

The old man shook his constantly aging face, clearly the orb took a lot to handle.

''Very well.'' The old man didn't wait any longer as he stretched out his wrinkled palm and pressed lightly on the back of the orb.

With a spiral of energy the power flooded towards the orb dragging the life force of all those around it. Both leaders were no exception.

Slowly skeletons fell down one by one towards the ceaseless chasm until the only one standing was the old man.

Watching his long lasting opponent die just like this the old man closed his eyes.

And just like that, a dramatic battle that shocked even the heavens themselves ended.

But no one noticed that a small pendant hanging within a set of red robes slowly shuddered before flying towards the golden orb.

Time continued to pass as the world paid no mind towards the massacre that had happened.

Three million years have passed since that era, the world was divided in two by the war now deemed as the battle of the ancients.

The two continents are known only as the North and south. A simple name for such a complex backstory.

Powerful sects and empires have risen and fallen. Heroes and prodigies have appeared and disappeared relying on the inheritances of those fallen.

But there has been one consistency.

Within a world of its own, mighty buildings towered with mythical beasts lazing around. A strongman who could shake an entire county could be seen walking down the streets.

The population easily passing the trillions, the pure size of this was inestimable.

But each citizen had one thing in common, their robe featured a small insignia of a golden man.

Deep in the world, in a small area considered as a forbidden ground, sat a handsome boy. His features were noticeably yes, but the most intriguing part was his aura.

The boy who looked no more than 5 had an aura comparable to the strong men outside.

Surrounding the boy were towers of heavenly materials,each able to serve as the heritage of a sect.

But now these plants are withered and dry, a clear effect of having the aura absorbed from within.

At this moment the boy's eyes snapped open, showing a maturity that was not matching his age.

''Finally reached the fairy state'' the boy's eyes showed a sense of satisfaction when he said this.

If this was heard by anyone else they would be shocked. Reaching the fairy state at 5? What kind of monster is this boy?

The ranks of cultivators in the continent are, body refining, bone refining, soul tempering, core building, fairy state, spirit state, ancient, saint and finally you become an antique.

Most people begin bone refining at the age of 5 while some ancient families might assist their children from as early as the age of 3 with the use of various materials.

As for an evildoer like Dante, it had never been heard of before. Dante Armstrong, the heir to the Armstrong family. The Armstrong family is a behemoth of the continent, a true antique family. Its ancestors spanned millions of years, some were alive during the battle of the ancients.