Spirit sword adventure

When you hold the cold blade tightly, you have stepped into the mysterious world shrouded in mist. Every inch of air here is wrapped in decay and treacherousness. The twisted and tangled ancient trees are like dormant monsters, and the rugged branches are like greedy claws that stretch out wantonly. The layers of branches and leaves are like heavy curtains, covering the sky tightly, allowing only a few strands of faint blue light to penetrate with difficulty, casting broken and gloomy light and shadow on the rotten leaves on the ground, as if they were strange pupils opened in another world. ​
The dead branches and leaves under your feet make a tiny "rustling" sound every time they move, like the whispers of countless peepers in the dark. The low roar coming from afar, wrapped in a trembling sense of oppression, seems to be the roar of a sleeping giant after being awakened, warning rash intruders: danger is everywhere.