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A hundred kilometers west of Phoenix Mountain lies Greenstone Valley.
This valley is not very large, and the terrain is fairly flat, without too many tall peaks. There are nearly a hundred small waterfalls, with streams intertwined, where there is water there must be rocks, the stone blocks are smooth and regularly shaped, covered with thick moss like a green carpet, hence the name.
The vegetation in the valley is lush, with numerous maple trees, among which stands an extraordinary maple, known as Maple King, with the densest foliage, the latest falling leaves, the brightest red color, and an elegant form, truly unparalleled.
At this moment in the early morning, the morning light was just right.
A light step came from the stone stairs, and out stepped a girl of about fifteen or sixteen, dressed in black clothes and trousers, her pant legs tied up revealing a segment of her white, lotus-like calves.
