The vast forest, at the right edge.
A group of white-robed women are fiercely battling with a group of black-clad warriors.
Black and white, distinctly contrasting.
The black-clad warriors, each wielding a black scythe, exude an overwhelming, murderous aura enveloping everyone.
The white-robed women, relying solely on their bare hands, emanate a series of misty glows from their bodies, exceedingly gentle.
The air is thick with the pungent smell of blood.
The blood all comes from this group of white-robed women.
Among the dozens of them, except for the leading woman with a cold visage, all others are injured.
The leading woman, clad in white, remains unscathed to this day.
A pure white lotus flower floats in mid-air, its white glow covering the surroundings.
The white glow is gentle yet cold, with a touch of soothing comfort.
Bathing in it, the wounds on each injured white-robed woman are visibly healing at a rapid pace.
