In the blink of an eye, a week has passed.
At noon, outside Shambala Town, on the mountain of the No. 13 Mine.
The sun shines on the land, and the mountain top is calm, with only the faint shadows of people running around.
It is Didak who is running, even though it is November's Cold Moon, at the end of autumn and the beginning of winter, the noon temperature is not very high, but he is still drenched in sweat.
Didak's expression is extremely serious, quickly running past one explosive point after another where large alchemy tools have been placed, carefully checking for any errors.
He runs down a pre-detonation line that stretches hundreds of meters, with sweat pouring into his eyes.
"Pant, pant..."
