Mount Cross City was smaller than Henry had imagined—yet more breathtaking than any place he'd seen.
The northern wastes stretched endlessly, a sea of unbroken white where blizzards howled across frozen plains.
Against this icy expanse, Mount Cross City stood like a defiant emerald—an oasis carved from glaciers by sheer willpower.
Protected by a Nine-Yuan Spirit-Gathering Formation, the thousand-mile city thrived without a trace of winter's chill.
Starved for warmth beneath eternal snows, the locals built in fiery reds and oranges, their structures glowing like hearthfires against the white.
Cultivators' magic had split the city into twin realms:
Below, buildings stood like chess pieces on some grand board.
Above, floating platforms mirrored them a mile up.
A true twin city.
Arcan
