The northern mine sat at the farthest edge of the Fifteenth Firmament, buried deep within a desolate vale.

The darkness before dawn blanketed the entire valley.

The stars had dimmed, and the moon was swallowed behind thick clouds.

The air carried a cold, damp bite.

Frost spread across the ground, catching the faint traces of light and reflecting a pale silver glow.

Towering cliffs rose on both sides of the vale.

Bare and stripped clean, they looked utterly lifeless—not even a single blade of grass grew on them.