Early morning.
A round red sun slowly rises from the eastern horizon.
Golden rays penetrate the mist, illuminating the Quicksand River area and reflect a hazy, bizarre scene.
Near the Quicksand River.
At the foot of a mountain full of weirdly shaped rocks, desolate and devoid of life.
A giant man with ablue face, huge teeth, red beard, and red hair, sitting across from a handsome, cold-tempered young man in a green robe, with a highly intelligent silver-white rat sitting on his shoulder.
In between the two figures, a fire blazes, above which a large pot is bubbling, the aroma filling the air.
A cold wind blows.
The fragrant aroma, carried by the wind, quickly drifts into the depths of the mountain below.
Across the mountain path.
Several half-demons wearing ragged clothes, with various types of heads, are eagerly sniffing, drooling over the scent that the cold wind carries.
Such a desolate, terrifying environment.
The ones who dare to openly cook in the wild.
