At a clearing near dense trees that seemed endless, a calming silence pervaded the surroundings, only broken by the cacophony of the wind blowing, rustling the leaves and bushes of the dense canopy of the trees.
The orangish-red afterglow of the sun barely sifted through the dense foliage of the trees, making it hard to notice the ground from far away.
The wind seemed to be whistling, followed by the chirping of birds, cicadas, and insects, forming a serene scene with warm air, giving it a tranquil vibe.
The forest was one of the most dangerous ones recently, as a lot of cultivators died inside, hearing roars, wails, cries, shrieks, and painful grunts, yet the current scene seemed to be a far cry from what it was defined as.
On the border of the clearing and the entrance of the forest stood a tall, thick-trunk cypress tree, its leaves jostling amongst the wind, forming melodious whistling sounds.
