The Mo estate stood beneath a mountain, trapped in a perpetual grip of crisp autumn that ate away at the surrounding tree barks and weighted down on their branches with yellowing leaves.
The mountain was believed to preach Heaven with its peak, where immortals made contact with the Heaven realm. Yet the slope was barren of life. Trees stood tall without fruit or leaves, the earth rocky and treacherous without even a weed to color it green.
While some called it the Immortal Mountain, people who had lived long enough to witness souls disappear without a trace in its vicinity called it the Death Mountain.
For here lies the gates of Hell where souls were devoured, where beasts roamed out of sight, stalking for prey, and no human should step foot in if one still favored life.
