The early winter of Heng Mountain, at dusk, appeared like an ancient painting sealed by time and imbued with a chilling aura of murderous intent.
The fierce cold wind was like an enraged beast, rampaging through the mountain ranges, emitting piercing howls of "woo woo", as if it wanted to mercilessly devour all life in the world. The setting sun was like blood, and its mournful glow was cast upon the bare branches, creating twisted and eerie shadows, adding a heavy and oppressive ominous color to the impending fierce battle.
The fallen leaves on the ground were wantonly swept up by the wild wind, dancing wildly in the sky, interwoven with the gradually dimming twilight, enhancing the desolation and loneliness, enveloping the entire Heng Mountain in a chillingly tense atmosphere.
