Southwest of the Pale Continent, in the Great Marshland.
An enormous underground space had been excavated beneath the earth veins.
The ceiling soared hundreds of meters overhead, with hanging stalactites interspersed among artificially carved supporting pillars.
Planted dark blue "glowing moss" spread along the stone walls, bathing the entire underground world in a soft glow.
Clusters of stone buildings followed the terrain in overlapping tiers, spreading outward from the center of the underground plain to the limits of sight.
This was the Raincall Race's habitat.
Millions of its people had lived and multiplied in this underground city for hundreds of years.
They had arrived in this world full of ambition, only to be met with a devastating lesson.
Their enemies were suffocatingly powerful, and their casualties had been horrific.
Ultimately, the entire race had fled their arrival site and moved underground.
They had withdrawn from the world to escape its turmoil.
Yet even underground, this world's gifts far surpassed anything their homeland could offer.
The spiritual energy in the air was as abundant as an ocean, and even the energy elements coursing through the earth veins were hundreds of times more concentrated than in their Homeworld.
The rare spirit plants their race had once revered as the "three great spirit venerables" had grown and blossomed like weeds after being casually sown in the underground space.
Spirit trees that needed hundreds of years to mature in their Homeworld towered skyward here after mere months.
During these years of seclusion, the entire race had enjoyed unprecedented prosperity.
The few hundred thousand survivors of those days now numbered over three million.
The reproductive difficulties that had plagued their race in their Homeworld had also been resolved through this world's nourishment.
Newborns had robust constitutions and greater purity of life, and even their lifespans