...
In Black Pine Ridge.
The true purgatory.
The sky was shattered, countless filthy cracks like festering wounds writhed, spewing black tides.
The earth groaned, bottomless fissures crisscrossing, exuding a dense aura of death, more Life Ghosts crawled out like maggots from the ground.
The air rippled with invisible waves, splitting open into black gashes, twisted limbs and roars squeezed out.
The black torrent composed of Shadow Hounds, Venom Flies, and Rock Puppets instantly engulfed all within sight.
The mutated Iron-Eating Ghosts emitted a piercing metallic screech, like mobile fortresses.
The cold Shadow Weaver weaving invisible killing webs in the shadows.
Several mountain demons, slightly smaller than the Vajra Buddha but exuding a terrifying aura, crashed through the ruins, their blood-red eyes locked onto the valley entrance.
