In the dim environment, bloated poison snake tattoos intertwined with one another like balls of yarn, their long, slender, and cold eyes fixated on the sky.
Every hiss emitted with each lash of their forked tongues was enough to make even battle-hardened veterans' hair stand on end as tens of thousands of poison snakes hissed in unison.
This unbroken stretch of land, merely over twenty kilometers across, swiftly approached its center under the flight of a unicorn.
There stood a Black Altar, ten blades long and three blades high, with no snakes within a thousand blades of it, as if the altar was a taboo for the venomous creatures.
Around the altar, carvings of poison snakes with open mouths and sharp tusks twisted into grotesque and unsettling effigies, brimming with the aura of exotic city-states.
