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Chapter 180 - The Smith Clan. Christel Again.

The sleek blue jet pierced through the cloud cover, descending toward the rugged terrain of the Spike Ranges. Unlike the dazzling skyscrapers and neon-lit spires of Antrim City, this land was ancient, untouched, a realm where time flowed differently. Towering jagged peaks stretched toward the heavens, their dark, weathered stone carved by the passage of millennia. Mist slithered through the valleys like living specters, and dense forests clung to the mountainsides, their emerald canopies swaying in the crisp, untamed air. 

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