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Chapter 287: Blood and Bruises
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... untain. Each gust of wind that screamed across the jagged cliffs was sharp, unforgiving — yet the deep-set frost clung to the ancient stone, unmoved and eternal.
Snowflakes drifted through the air like falling stardust, each one unique, carved by the breath of the mountain itself. They shimmered faintly in the moonlight, their patterns delicate and hypnotic. Among them, ethereal constructs — silver and translucent — fluttered like ghostly butterflies. They moved in slow, deliberate patte ...
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