The Pinnacle of Mortal loomed before them, its peak shrouded in a thick mist that even the clear blue sky could not pierce. The air felt dense, a suffocating weight pressing down on the shoulders of all who dared to stand at its base. Even the usual chorus of birds or the rustling of leaves was absent. It was as though nature itself refused to acknowledge the mountain's existence.
"Yup, he is there alright," Muspell, the Almighty Ox, rumbled, his deep voice reverberating like a small tremor. His large eyes narrowed as they gazed toward the distant peak. "That big cat is as ferocious as ever, even as a mere ghost."
Lyon grinned, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Raja, huh? I figured he'd show up. He always had a flair for the dramatic." His tone was casual, almost dismissive, but the knowing glint in his eyes showed a certain respect.
