The mountain ranges of the Ice and Snow Ridge stretched one after another. Crude, jutting wooden huts and large, carved-out caves dotted the cliff face of its highest peak.
Gales ravaged the area, pressing the trees low. Even Wind, standing at the very top, had his hair blown about like waves, his eyes narrowed to slits.
With his hands clasped behind his back and a simple, ancient Sword Scabbard at his waist, he gazed down upon the vast, snowy mountains and the members of the Demon Race flitting about below.
The mountains of the Ice and Snow Ridge were high. Standing here amidst the white, cloud-like mist, one felt as if they were truly in the heavens. Yet, it was nowhere near as high as Cold Heaven Cliff, from whose peak one felt they could reach up and pluck the clouds from the sky.
