Song Ciwan stood at the city gates, looking up at the towering guards who resembled weathered stone statues.
The tallest of them was fifty feet high, level with the top of the gate tower—enough to trigger a case of megalophobia in an instant.
In contrast, Song Ciwan, standing at the foot of the wall, was as insignificant as a speck of dust.
Song Ciwan cautiously stepped toward the city gates. She found that the giants neither looked down at her nor paid any mind to her entry.
The moment she passed through the gateway, the green leaf in the pouch on her wrist vibrated gently.
It was as if she had passed through a cool, watery film, stepping into another world with a single stride.
The city's vista unfolded before her. The first thing she saw was a kind of brilliant decay.
Broken bluestone streets, dilapidated houses, and yet, the air was filled with countless shimmering, dark red motes of light.
