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... live here?”

“What do you want?” Huan Xue tightened her grip, causing the perverted pig to instantly spit out his tongue.

“Tell Ling Han to come out,” Fang Ziping raised his voice slightly.

“You have to pass through me first!” Huan Xue said as she raised the perverted pig as a shield.

She had heard from Young Master that this pig was extremely tolerant, so it was fine even if she used it as a shield.

“Gu!” The little perverted pig kicked its four short legs qui ...

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In the year 1266, the tale of Conradin, the last scion of an ancient imperial dynasty, unfolds. His once-great kingdom, Sicily, has been ruthlessly usurped first by his own uncle and now rests in the hands of the cunning French Count Charles. Through a treacherous plot involving the Pope, Charles managed to oust the Hohenstaufen from the Kingdom of Sicily and crowned himself as its king.

In the East, powers such as the Despotate of Epirus are keenly observing the instability in Sicily, poised to seize any advantage that may arise from the chaos. Meanwhile, the small Italian communes are caught in the political crossfire, aligning themselves with one side of the conflict or the other based on the prevailing political party in power and their vested interests. These shifting allegiances turn the Italian peninsula into a powder keg, where all-out war seems inevitable.

As the shadows of history close in around Conradin, the world watches with bated breath. Will he emerge triumphant, his name forever etched in the annals of Sicilian glory as the rightful king who defied insurmountable odds, toppling both the Pope and the usurper? Or will he, in his valiant struggle, become a tragic figure, a symbol of lost opportunities and shattered dreams? The future of Sicily hangs in the balance, and Conradin's destiny remains uncertain, poised on the precipice of history.

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The boundless universe was filled with all sorts of wonders.

I, Chen *Ping’an, only have one sword, to move mountains, turn the seas upside down, suppress demons, deal with gods, pluck stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and open the heavenly abode!

My name is Chen Ping’an, Ping’an* of Peace, and I am a swordsman.

The Midland world was full of wonders.

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At the edge of the East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

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* Ping’an means peace

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