Above the Abyss, Gods Are Below

The night falls, and the ink is like thick paint, splashing unreservedly on Cangming Mountain. Deep in the mountain, the area shrouded in fear is the Netherworld Abyss that makes people talk about it. The bottom of the abyss seems to be connected to endless darkness, with strange black mist surging, and shrill wails faintly heard from it, as if countless innocent souls are struggling in it, telling the world endless pain and unwillingness. At this time, on the edge of Netherworld Abyss, stood a thin young man in green clothes, his name was Lin Yuan. The cold moonlight fell on his slightly immature but determined face, outlining his tight lips and deep and determined eyes. Lin Yuan carried a simple long sword on his back. Although the sword was wrapped in cloth, it could not hide the cold aura it exuded.