The first year of the Doomsday Calendar, late June.
On the Wasteland, the sun set and the moon sank, yet the world remained dim and gloomy all day long.
More and more snow was cleared away, and territories gradually returned to normal order.
However, the weather remained cold. Clearing away the accumulated snow did not make it vanish from the world.
Apart from coastal territories, which could push the snow into the sea, most inland territories could only push the snow from their own areas onto the territory next door.
Thus, along the southern, eastern, and western shores of the New Continent,
more and more small alien territories sharing borders began fighting fiercely. As the chaos continued, the fighting grew real, and the war spread across the entire continent.
Powerful territories gradually put aside their previous restraint and began supporting proxies to join the fighting and seize resources.
Smoke and flames rose across the southern shore of the continent. The dead and wounded, as well as those who suffered losses, were beyond count.
Fortunately, under such chaotic circumstances, humanity, which had always struggled to survive between the cracks, finally gained a precious opportunity to develop and began gradually devouring territory previously occupied by the alien races.
Although these lands were barren, and although the aliens had basically carried away all the valuable resources after invading,
humanity's main forces finally gained the chance to participate in this territorial struggle starting in July.
July 6 of the Wasteland's Doomsday Calendar, the thirty-sixth day of the disaster's respite period.
Central New Continent, the northwestern entrance to the Ten Thousand Mile Mountains.
Amid the vast, desolate mountains devoid of human life, a lone glimmer of light spilled across the surface of the rocks, reflecting a dim, withered atmosphere of death.
The snow here was