The Ghost Immortal Blessed Land was perpetually shrouded in darkness. There was no sun, no moon, and no stars—only an ashen sky from which bursts of dark red and purple light would occasionally erupt. The entire land looked lifeless and bleak, enveloped in a perpetual gloom.
Yet, this land also had mountains, rivers, flowers, and trees. But under the ghostly light, everything seemed to be coated in a layer of desolate, solemn gray.
Upon closer inspection, the trees were quite different from those of the outside world. Their branches were thick, hard, and sharp, like the fangs and claws of a malevolent ghost. They were hideous. At first glance, they gave one an intensely terrifying impression. Even the rivers, perhaps due to the strange light, seemed to be tinged with blood. It was as if this place was designed from its very creation to be the domain of ghosts.
…
SWOOSH—
A streak of light shot across the low sky, illuminating a stream and scattering a group of wandering souls.
