Mount Olympus was hosting a banquet for the Deity Race.
The Mount of the Gods was extraordinarily glorious because of the most distinguished guests, and the colorful clouds illuminated one-third of the sky in the east.
The fragrance of a hundred flowers danced in the air, and the birds on the horizon hovered, reluctant to leave.
However, at the same moment, at the southeastern edge of the continent, in a town not far from Silver Moon City, two young people finally awaited the daylight to continue their journey.
"It was truly a long night... This time was much longer than any before."
"Even during the coldest days of winter, such an event had never occurred in the extreme north of the continent."
"If it dragged on any longer, I might begin to believe that the sun had plummeted from the sky and that the Mortal Realm would never again see the Light."
By tying a simple sled made of two planks to a rope, even a light application of force could move heavy objects across the snow.
