We were slowly approaching the island where the Northern Sea Ice Palace was.
The Frostveil Sea, vast and bitterly cold, stretched endlessly around us. It never fully froze over—summer kept it from turning into a solid wasteland of ice, but the water was still sharp enough to bite at the skin.
It was the sea that separated the Eastern continent from the Northern continent, mirroring the Luthadel Sea that separated the Eastern continent from the Southern continent.
And then, there was the island.
It loomed before us, snow-covered and silent, a frozen graveyard where no living thing, including mana beasts, stirred.
The first thing that stood out was the spire. Or what was left of it. Once a towering symbol of power, now partially collapsed, its jagged remains jutting out of the ruins like broken bones. This had been the heart of the Northern Sea Ice Palace. Even in its ruined state, it still held an undeniable presence—a monument to what had once been, and what had been lost.
