The horizon stretched wide, revealing the Whispering Wasteland in its full expanse. Thin, tall trees, like gaunt sentinels, dotted the wasteland.
Each tree swayed gently, bending and stretching in its own unique way. It was as if they were communicating their myriad emotions to the occasional cultivator that dared tread their territory. Every so often, strange voices would waft through the air, their utterings incomprehensible, vanishing before one could grasp their meaning.
As Zhan Chen entered the Whispering Wasteland, he couldn't shake the sensation of unseen eyes scrutinizing him. He looked around, trying to find the source of this strange feeling.
"This place is slightly odd," Zhan Chen murmured. His low voice appeared loud in the silent eerie atmosphere.
