Upon the peak that pierced the heavens,
a figure sat cross-legged, watching the 'white' snowflakes drifting down between heaven and earth, extending a palm to feel the grains that came to rest upon fingertips.
He 'saw' endless vengeful spirits howling, roaring, cursing.
But as his gaze settled, everything came to a sudden halt; usually irrational specter and fierce ghosts were trembling, afraid.
"Master, that man has appeared in Divine Soldiers Valley, requesting weapon forging. He will return to retrieve it in a half-moon's time,"
said the youth in a green robe, standing at a distance, speaking out.
He had never stepped into the 'thick snow' once.
As his words dropped, there was no further movement, only the howling of the wind stirring the air.
Ha! Ha! Ha!
Maniacal laughter echoed between heaven and earth.
Mountains crumbling, earth tearing apart, space shattering in fragments.
Only that peak reaching into the clouds remained quiet and undamaged.