Ember Scythe

In the vast Eastern Continent, there is a strange guest named Mo Yuan. He carried a dark purple sickle blade, and wherever the blade passed, all living beings fell silent. This person speaks little and has no trouble in his heart. He only regards "what he sees" as his boundary. Anyone who comes into his sight, no matter human or animal, good or evil, strong or weak, will not be able to escape the dead end of the sickle. From the desolate Wuhui Plain to the prosperous Panshi City, from roaming bandits to practicing sects, wherever Mo Yuan's footprints are, death spreads. He was like a silent storm, sweeping through every inch of the Eastern Continent, leaving behind only embers of dust and deathly silence. No one knows why he is like this. Is it a cursed fate, or is he hiding an unknown past? All I know is that when that gray-black robed figure appears, and when the dark purple scythe lights up, surviving becomes the most extravagant wish. As he moved forward, more and more forces were involved in this senseless killing. Ancient secrets, dusty grievances, and the power that could shake the Eastern Continent gradually surfaced due to the swing of this Ember Scythe. A catastrophe sweeping the world is beginning step by step with this silent god of death.