The deep darkness of night enveloped the land. A crescent Blood Moon hung in the sky like a blood-stained scythe of the Death God, casting an ominous, murky red light across the entire Hundred Beasts Paradise.
On the vast and wild continent, mountains undulated. The forests, many times larger than those in other places, rustled in the wind. Every blade of grass, every flower, and every stone gained life under the Blood Moon.
In the shadows baring their fangs and claws, fiendish creatures roamed, spirits wailed, and the empty forbidden secret realms suddenly teemed with a cacophony of human voices.
"All Things Have Spirit," which might be nothing more than a fanciful respect for nature among common folk elsewhere, was evidently the true state here.
On this wilderness, far larger than the Humanized World, various horrors dwelled.
