The descent into the chasm was treacherous. Tian Feng's fingers clung to jagged rocks and twisted roots, his body tense with the effort of not slipping into the abyss. The light from the Heart of the Mountain illuminated his path but did little to dispel the oppressive darkness that seemed to seep into his very bones.
"Mei Ling!" he called again, his voice echoing eerily off the chasm walls. There was no response, only the unsettling sound of his own voice fading into silence. He forced himself to focus, his mind replaying Elder Zhou's warnings about the Forest of Echoes and its treacherous nature.
After what felt like an eternity, Tian Feng reached the bottom of the chasm. The ground was damp and uneven, covered in a thick layer of moss that muffled his steps. The air was cold and still, carrying a faint, musty odor that spoke of ancient secrets and long-forgotten places.
