Capital, three hundred miles away.
In a deep valley, cold crows were startled and landed on branches, their blood-red eyes scanning the endless Chaotic Burial Hill for their meat.
Lonely graves were scattered haphazardly with many broken tombstones revealing the buried skeletons beneath.
This place is called White Bone Mound, a desolate graveyard where the nearby villagers would discard corpses of those who died alone without a proper burial place.
Additionally, many wandering merchants and vagrants who had died on the road without someone to bury them were also abandoned here. Over time, this place became a desolate graveyard.
As the saying goes, ten miles of White Bone Mound, lonely souls call for the impermanence.
"Brother... I'm scared..."
At this moment, from a deep corner of the deserted graveyard, a timid and frail voice echoed, attracting the attention of the crows perched on the withered branches nearby.