Southward

Winter was drawing near, and the temperature dropped day by day. The once-lush vegetation along both banks of the Gorgon River had begun to look bleak and desolate. There were fewer and fewer travelers on the roads by the shore, and only larger merchant caravans occasionally appeared along the riverbanks—mostly on the western bank.

The plains on the eastern bank were still barren. On that land scorched clean by fire, the wounds of war were far from healed.

A low whistle resounded across the river. Its steel-plated prow split the waves as it forged proudly ahead along the Gorgon River, leaving the sluggish Old Cargo Ships far behind. The Magic-infused Mechanical Ship Highlander, which traveled between the north and south, sailed across the water like a proud swan, its Magic-infused Wing Panels raised high behind the hull in the cold wind, scattering specks of radiance.

A blond young man in a dark blue wool coat stood by the rail, gazing at the still-barren and ruined eastern bank of the Gorgon River. His eyes were deep and faintly melancholy. A cold wind from the north caught up with the new mechanical vessel, making him tighten his collar before turning and returning to his cabin.

Warm air rushed toward him.

The cabin was simply furnished, yet clean and comfortable. A small desk stood by the window, with ink, paper, and pens laid upon it.

The young man sat down at the desk and remained quiet for a while. Then he drew out a sheet of stationery, picked up a dip pen, and began writing a message to someone far away with a calm, composed expression:

"My dearest flower of the mountains—

"The farther I travel from home, the stronger my longing for you becomes. This long journey is truly my first of