Deep within the Immortal Burial Valley in the Beidou Star Domain.
The cold moon hangs like frost, spilling over mountains piled high with countless millions of bones and casting a pallid, eerie glow. There is no wind in the valley, yet a mournful sound lingers, like the whispers of ancient vengeful spirits, or the fading echoes of the Dao’s flowing laws. A slender figure stands motionless before a desolate grave at the heart of the valley. Her dark robe trails along the ground, its hem embroidered with long-lost ancient bronze patterns that shimmer faintly beneath the moonlight.
She gives off not the slightest hint of pressure, yet the surrounding silence seems to freeze in her presence. Her ink-black hair falls like a waterfall to her waist. A strand hangs over her forehead, concealing half her eyes; the other half are deep as an ancient, frigid pool, devoid of joy or sorrow, as if she has witnessed the rise and fall of the universe and the turning of the stars. In her hand is an unremarkable staff of deadwood, its surface covered in cracks, though a faint dragon aura lies dormant within it. It is the Divine Marked Purple Gold Staff, once unrivaled beneath the heavens. Time has worn away its edge, leaving only the weight of age and hardship.
