After traveling for a day or two, the caravan reached Anmore Town. There, they unloaded a batch of transit supplies bound by water for the Bison Mountains colony, took on a batch of native specialties, then set out once more.
Between Harrison Port and Three Rivers City lay the Great Rift District. It had once been a mountain, but geological upheavals caused by the Calamity of Falling Skies had split and collapsed the entire massif, sending it sliding into the sea. The fissures, hollows, and sedimentary layers left by that collapse had become today's Great Rift and Illusion Maze Reef Cluster.
Some of those cracks had been scoured by river water year-round, becoming tier upon tier of staggered underground waterfalls. Southern Ridge's distinctive water-cliff species lived there, along with quite a few flying aquatic Magic Beasts.
It was even said that these rifts led straight to the sea.
But none of that had much to do with the White Chamber Caravan. They merely crossed the shortest stretch between the two sides of the Great Rift via a stone arch bridge, then headed toward the region where the Illusion Maze Reef Cluster was located.
"There are plenty of Magic Beasts around here. This is practically one of the worst-hit areas for Magic Beast attacks on people. Even the natives rarely come near."
Once they entered this region, the caravan raised its guard. Even Brin began wiping down his long blade, preparing for a battle that could break out at any moment. "See over there? A small caravan. They probably wanted to try their luck and got attacked by a Magic Beast forest leopard leading a pack."
Where Brin pointed stood the wreckage of a wagon, already entirely covered in overgrown moss. Fine, dense claw marks were clearly visible upon it, an