The silver moon hung high.
Fang Zheng raised his head to look, and before him lay a land covered with white flowers. In the distance stood a withered old tree, and beneath that tree, an old man sat in a wheelchair, supporting himself with a walking stick, his expression complex as he watched Fang Zheng.
The moon here wasn't the Blood Moon that Fang Zheng had seen before, but a normal silver-white one. Even so, Fang Zheng could still feel the foul stench of the Abyss permeating the air.
"You shouldn't have come here, outsider."
The old man watched Fang Zheng coldly, a flash of cold light in his eyes.
"This place is not yours, leave here, and I can help you end it all..."
"Usually, only villains who sense a bad situation beg for mercy."
Fang Zheng raised his greatsword high and swung it violently, pointing at the old man in front of him.
