In the blood-red sky, there were no sun, moon, or stars, only bolt after bolt of lightning.
Not a single blade of grass grew on the dark brown earth.
A thick, foul mist permeated everything, making even the air seem dark.
It was enough to suffocate any mortal who dared set foot here.
Countless massive skeletons of beasts lay exposed on the ground, glowing with a faint phosphorescence.
Vicious Wild Beasts roamed this place, their Energy making the already ravaged land even more desolate.
A colossal Fierce Simurgh, radiating a menacing aura, circled in the bleak and desolate blood-red sky. Its deafening cries rang out like a death knell for the world.
Mo Ge, only eight years old, was trekking laboriously through this Desolate Land. He wore clothes of Beast Hide, his right arm bare, and carried a rusty Short Sword.
His lips were cracked, his body was covered in scars, and he was drenched in blood...
Yet his gaze never wavered. It remained as cold and resolute as ever.
