Shadow Demonic Whale

The sky seemed to be shrouded by a gigantic black curtain. There were no stars, no moonlight, and not even a trace of wind could pierce through that endless darkness. This darkness was not simply an absence of light, but an entity that seemed to possess life. It flowed and spread like ink, as though it wanted to swallow everything that dared approach.

The land beneath their feet was cracked and barren, displaying a strange dark-gray color. The ground was covered with sharp stones and twisted roots. The stones were shaped like demons' fangs, jutting out unevenly; the slightest carelessness would leave one's flesh sliced open. The roots, meanwhile, resembled withered arms reaching out from underground and clutching the earth tightly, as though struggling to escape this dark abyss. In some low-lying areas, foul-smelling slime had pooled together. Bubbles occasionally rose from it and burst, releasing wisps of black smoke that slowly drifted upward and merged into the darkness above.

In the distance, some vague silhouettes could be seen through the gloom. They were strange plants growing along the edge of the Abyss of Shadows. Their trunks were tall and twisted, like giants whose souls had been warped by Dark Power. Not a trace of vibrant green could be found on them. Instead, they were a dull black or purplish red, their rough bark covered in mysterious patterns, as if recounting ancient curses. Their branches resembled withered claws stretching toward the sky, seemingly praying for something, or perhaps trying to seize any living creature that came near. Their leaves took all sorts of bizarre shapes. Some were like sharp blades, flashing with a cold gleam in the faint light; others resembled enormous scales layered one atop another, giving off an indestructible feeling. These plants stood silently in the darkness, as