"Boom-"
After a deafening crash like a thunderbolt, a towering mountain in the distance collapsed without warning, crumbling in an instant. The earth shook for a while before finally settling. The nearby villagers fled in terror at once; a few bolder souls felt their way back to take a look, inevitably swallowing bellyfuls of dust.
The mountain had stood for a long time, and the people living nearby all called it Mountain Cone. Its shape was very peculiar, like three mountains folded together, with sharp edges jutting out all around and the occasional flash of dazzling light.
According to tales passed down by their ancestors' ancestors, Mountain Cone had once been a famous burial ground, holding the bodies of countless heroes and the weapons they had carried. Every hundred years, the earth would shake, and afterward, another mountain would be stacked on top. It was decidedly eerie, so everyone who had lived there for a long time knew that the mountain was roughly three hundred years old.
"We're done for. It's been two days already. Why hasn't Mountain Cone risen again?" The bare-chested man scratched his head, staring in bewilderment at the barren stretch not far away, his face full of confusion and doubt. His grandfather had told him that Mountain Cone shook once every hundred years, and after each tremor, it grew a little taller, as though it had gained another hat.
But now, not only was there no hat to be seen, Mountain Cone itself had vanished without a trace.
If his father were still around, he might have known something. Unfortunately, his father had died quite young too.
The man kept scratching his head. Once he made up his mind, he set off for the site of the collapse in his tattered shoes. Mountain Cone looked close,