It was the sort of all-encompassing and even… devouring peace. This wasn't a typical way to think about the word, but peace was possessive and demanding. It wasn't fierce like the sharp edge of a blade, but it could just as easily kill, whiling away the edges until nothing was left.
In the words of mortal generals, peace made men weak, unprepared for the dangers the world held. In Di Tou's case, the Shattered Moon World's peace was even more demanding. If he wasn't careful, he would find that he too was nothing more that a backdrop in the peaceful atmosphere. Another forever quiet entity that had lost his name, his point, his purpose.
