Battle

Within the Ancient Martial World stood a valley shrouded in wind from dawn to dusk. It was called the Valley of Wind.

The valley was surrounded by mountains, their peaks soaring into the clouds as though enormous giants were standing guard, tightly protecting the valley within. The mountain range stretched for hundreds of miles. Its slopes were steep and treacherous, with bare rocks displaying a cold, blue-gray hue. Under the sunlight, they reflected a metallic sheen, revealing the vicissitudes of time and the ancient age of the land.

Upon entering the Valley of Wind, the first strange sight to greet the eye was the sparse vegetation. Only tenacious thorns and a few low shrubs stubbornly grew in the wind. The thorny branches were covered in sharp spines, swaying in the wind as though issuing a challenge to the outside world. The low shrubs had thick, narrow leaves pressed tightly against the ground to withstand the raging wind. The earth was cracked in every direction, the fissures varying in width. Some could barely hold a finger, while others were several feet wide, resembling the parched lips of the earth. Icy gusts occasionally blew from the cracks, as if the earth itself were breathing. The wind was bone-chilling, carrying the deep cold of the underground and making people shiver involuntarily.

Wind was the master here. It never ceased its howling passage through the valley, producing all sorts of strange sounds. At times, it sounded like ghosts wailing and wolves howling, shrill and piercing, as though countless vengeful spirits were recounting the grief of the past. At others, it resembled ten thousand horses galloping, deep and thunderous, making people's eardrums ache as though a vast army were fighting a savage battle in the valley. The wind seemed to possess a life of its