In the early spring of the Northern Territory, the snow was still heavy, and the convoy moved forward slowly, the wooden wheels rolling over the permafrost, emitting a muffled sound.
The southern merchant Solton pulled his cloak tighter, still feeling the cold seeping into his bones.
With a frown, he looked at the vast whiteness of the Northern Territory ahead, his tone filled with disdain.
Throughout the journey, he heard more than once that Lord Louis, the Red Tide Lord, was building the "most luxurious main castle in the Northern Territory," more extravagant than the Silver Castle or the Holy Dragon Cathedral.
Every time Solton heard this, he felt as if he were listening to a joke.
A nouveau riche in the Northern Territory, no matter how he tosses, can he pile up stones into a miracle?
