The cold wind from the Extreme North Icefield swept across the Five Great Lakes, penetrating the Continent. Under the shroud of night, the capital city Otavi trembled in the cold wind, and on its streets and alleys, human presence was almost nonexistent; barely anyone walked in the streets.
Occasionally, Dragon Cavalry clad in Silver Scale Breastplate and wielding Steam Rifles would gallop by, their pitch-black short cloaks almost melding with the night. The occasional low growl from Dragon Beasts sent a chill down the spines of certain creatures venturing in the dark.
The cold wind was like a whip in the hand of a winter maiden, lashing the entire city mercilessly. Most parts of Otavi were tightly enveloped in darkness, and law-abiding citizens had already drifted into their dreams amidst the howling of frost-laden winds.
