The cold morning mist had yet to clear as the convoy slowly crested the final hill.
At that instant, the view opened wide.
The sight before her took Mary's breath away.
A city stood quietly between the morning mist and the snowy plain.
Its half-finished gray-white walls stretched out like a great beast, a thin frost coating the unpolished stone and reflecting an icy gleam.
Beams of cold iron were embedded in the stonework, hard and sharp, like steel armor draped over the city.
Several arrow towers already stood, piercing straight through the mist. At their tops, the last embers in iron brazier frames still gave off faint wisps of smoke.
Even harder to look away from were the crimson banners snapping in the wind, a striking contrast against the vast white snowfields.
Like beacons in the snow, they pointed the way ahead and promised hope.
The children were the first to grow restless. Leaning halfway out, they shouted, "It's so big! So tall! Mom, look!"
"It's more orderly than Frost Glaive City... at least, it looks that way." One of the women traveling with them hugged her youngest son tightly, her voice trembling.
"Don't let appearances fool you. Who knows what it's like inside those gates?" An elderly man narrowed his eyes, his tone guarded, though the gleam in them betrayed his awe.
Listening to the voices around her and gazing at the city shrouded in morning mist, Mary felt a faint warmth in her chest.
Its walls and gates looked every bit the equal of those of old Frost Glaive City, perhaps even newer and sturdier.
Still, she did not dare let her guard down completely.
She felt both anticipation and worry.
After all, splendid gates did not guarantee a good life within. She would be content if