After my older brother’s death, I became the master of the sword.

Fifty years ago, our world merged with the “Waste.” Cities were reduced to isolated islands, unable to connect with one another. To defend against the man-eating beasts of the Waste that surrounded our cities, we prayed to the gods of that desolate world. The one who answered our prayers was the God of Craftsmanship. He bestowed upon us the “Sword.” Relying on this power, we have endured for fifty years in the Sea of Trees ruled by the Twelve Earthly Branches. Until…