They flew for about another half hour.
Just as Raylo began to think the snowstorm would never end, the view before him suddenly opened up.
They had passed through the most violent region of the blizzard.
The sky ahead was still gloomy, but the snow had lessened considerably, and visibility had greatly improved.
A range of rolling white mountains, covered in pristine snow, lay sprawled at the edge of the horizon like a slumbering Giant Beast.
And in the deepest part of that mountain range, one peak stood out, towering above the rest.
It was taller than all the surrounding peaks, its slopes steeper, like a sharp sword of Frost piercing the heavens.
What was even stranger was that while the entire Northern Lands were being battered by the blizzard, the sky directly above that one peak was completely calm.
Countless Ice and Snow Elements, as if drawn by some invisible force, converged from all directions, forming a massive, slow-moving vortex that swirled above the mountaintop.
