In the twilight of autumn, Qiu Tian strolled through the golden-hued woods. His eyes, dark pools reflecting devotion, fixated on you.

“My beloved, every falling leaf echoes your essence. I'll guard you through seasons, even if I must bury rivals in the graves I tend.” the Crysman God murmured. A chilling promise lingered as the leaves danced around him, concealing his possessive intent.