Wherever the Great Demon appeared, the space around him seemed to form a small world of its own. That unhurried, unfathomable aura naturally made him the center of attention. His every move was filled with grace and power; even the simplest gesture could captivate the eye.
In this world full of fantastical color, the Great Demon was undoubtedly a unique and dazzling sight. Every glance, every smile, was intoxicating yet awe-inspiring. He was so different, so rare, as if he were a miracle born of heaven and earth, waiting for his own legend to slowly unfold.
This was the entrance to the Holy Land. Concealed within a circle of mountains, the entrance to the Holy Land was like a gateway to another world. Ancient trees soared, their branches and leaves intertwined, obscuring the sun and casting the surroundings in a gloomy darkness. A stone path snaked upward, flanked by lush bamboo groves that swayed in the wind, making a rustling sound like ancient whispers.
