The Northern Coast of Ainu Maoxili stretches crookedly for a thousand miles. Across the entire coastline, from the low grass, needle-like pine forests, to the icy thawing marshlands, every inch bears the marks of harsh cold. Heading further south from the coast, towering mountains abruptly rise, blocking the cold currents moving south from the north, and offer mysterious valley imaginations.
"Chief Divine bears witness! Indeed, there are no major tribes on the Northern Coast of this Great Island! According to local claims, truly powerful Ainu Great Tribe, or even Tribal Alliances, are behind the mountains, all in the warmer South!..."
Zuwaro stood at the ship's prow, gazing at the cliffs of the coast, imagining the sights behind the mountains.
