The Legend of Cold Heaven Feather

Thousands of miles above the snow-capped peaks. With white hair dancing wildly on both ends, blue eyes looked up and met golden eyes. Without too many words, the sword has been unsheathed. All grudges in the world bloom here and end completely. The light of their high-speed slashes flashes in the clouds, from the top of the sky to the underworld. Awakening from the deepest despair, he tried to use his two-handed sword to kill the enemy in front of him, but the sword in his left hand had turned into his only remaining thought. He was ultimately defeated and beheaded on the snowy peak. Sighing lightly, the sword returned to its sheath, still standing and looking into the distance. Only dark gold and pale pink remain, which haunts the soul.