The deep woods near Suna, the capital of the Kingdom of Toro, stretched endlessly, shrouded in a dense, gloomy canopy that blocked out nearly all sunlight. The trees were ancient and unnaturally twisted, their gnarled branches aching upward like the claws of some forgotten beast. Somewhere within these shadows, a storm was brewing—not of rain or wind, but of power and bloodshed.
On the mossy ground, a battalion of martial fighters advanced in silence, their armor glinting faintly, their expressions cold and ruthless. They were the Thousand Slaughter Mountain School, feared throughout the land for their brutality. Their name was whispered with trepidation—words that heralded death in every sentence. They had a singular purpose now: attack the Ameria Witch Canopy, a secret coven nestled high among the treetops, their settlement tucked away atop the tallest, most ancient trees.
