In the center of San Tuo Mountain, a towering peak rises abruptly.
The summit is perilously steep, piercing the grey heavens.
The mountainside is forged from an unknown black stone, dark as ink, merging with the shadows around in the twilight.
Everywhere on the mountain wall are pits and crevasses, some like deep craters formed by mighty hammers, others like gullies cleaved by sharp blades, densely covering the entire mountain body, as if left over from countless bombardments.
The entire mountain almost lacks any smooth and flat area, akin to a battle-scarred warrior, riddled with wounds yet steadfastly standing between the sky and earth, never falling.
At this moment, a figure suddenly appears atop the mountain.
A black-clad figure, his robe softly fluttering in the mountain breeze, none other than Qin Tian.
