The Mythical Multiverse, in a world near the core.
"Rumble—"
Surging waves wrapped in white foam crashed against the dark, smooth reef rocks again and again, producing thunderous booms.
Shattered spray leaped into the air, trying to climb the hard stone walls, only to be seized by gravity when its strength gave out and fall helplessly back into the vast sea.
Following the falling spray upward, one could see a towering cliff rising from the ground like a natural barrier, guarding this turbulent stretch of coastline.
And atop the cliff stood a majestic, imposing pass.
Built against the mountain, backed by the cliff, and facing the East Sea, it was constructed entirely from massive, solid stones. Years of erosion and polishing by the sea wind had made it smooth and sturdy, giving off an austere, murderous air.
Judging from the pass's exterior alone, it had undoubtedly been shrouded in war year-round.
Yet if one turned their gaze toward the interior of the pass, they would find an entirely different scene—
Rows of houses stretched endlessly onward, their eaves joined together as they rose and fell along the mountain slopes.
In the market streets, people came and went amid a deafening bustle.
Vendors' cries, children's laughter, and neighbors calling out greetings intertwined above the streets. Every sound was full of the warmth of mortal life, brimming with vibrant vitality.
Such a scene stood in sharp contrast to the grim, forbidding appearance of the pass.
There had to be a reason for such a stark contrast. The people of this pass could live such peaceful lives because someone was silently bearing the burden for them!
At the highest and most dangerous point of the pass stood a grand residence.
It faced east from the west, directly toward the sea. Outside stood tall,