West District Grand Cemetery.
The cemetery was shrouded in thick fog that silently streamed like the souls of the deceased, unwilling to leave their graves, and at times, it solidified as if time had stopped, concealing the tombstones, trees, and surrounding shadows.
The moonlight tonight was pale and weak, filtering through the sparse clouds, but it could not penetrate the thick fog of the cemetery, and the land of death was dim and gloomy. Occasionally, when the wind passed, an invisible hand would stir the fog, emitting long, mournful sighs like those of the dead.
The West District Grand Cemetery was the resting place of the Death Knight, a fact that was no secret in Lundan's magic circles. Unless someone was a reclusive mage, most had heard of it to some extent.
Because of the Death Knight, the Grand Cemetery inevitably carried the essence of death. The grass and tree branches drooped listlessly, as if their vitality had been sapped away.