"Are you still looking into the distance at your hometown?"

After a series of footsteps, Palmer came to the terrace with a glass of clear water, plopped down on the sofa, and handed the water to the person beside him.

"Just zoning out."

Vasilina took the glass, sipped it, then set it aside, snuggling into the sofa wrapped in a blanket, trying to get comfortable.

Palmer also relaxed, leaning against Vasilina, their eyes both turned towards the majestic mountains beside Wind Source Highlands, and the towering peaks reaching into the clouds.

"Come to think of it, I haven’t been to the Mountain Ridge yet," Palmer said. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

"Neither have I, although I was born there," Vasilina said, eyes filled with longing, "It is said the environment there is so harsh that without the Clarks, someone as frail as I am would die there directly."

"Sounds really wild."

"It’s just a necessity for survival."

The two fell into silence, intently gazing at the mountain range so near yet so far.

The Mountain Ridge is at the heart of an ancient mountain system, rising so high its peaks sit above the clouds, like an invisible ladder entwined with the sky. It is said that when the sun rises, the peaks cast vast shadows, making the world below as though plunged into night.

The mountains are cloaked in thick snow, with glaciers and layers of ice on its surface, appearing mysterious and remote. At such an altitude and in such extreme weather conditions, various supernatural phenomena like roaring blizzards, thunderous storms, and dazzling auroras occur within the mountains.

In the eyes of many aspirants, these peaks are holy ground, believed to be the dwelling of deities, where religious rituals and pilgrimages are often held. It also draws numerous adventurers and travelers eager to explore and challenge themselves.

But no one has ever reached the summit, except the Mountain Clan, the Philrads, and those invited by them.

"The naturally frail can’t survive there because of the excessive Ether," Palmer suddenly said.

"The Ether concentration at the Mountain Ridge is terrifyingly high. In that extreme environment, Ether almost materializes, turning into snowflakes and auroras. Strangely, the excess Ether there hasn’t caused any Extraordinary Disasters but instead reached a subtle balance with the material world."

With the strict seal of the Philrads, the outside world knows little about the Mountain Ridge. The Clarks, located outside the mountains on the Wind Source Highlands, have been on friendly terms with the Philrads since ancient times and thus are privy to its secrets.

"It’s a truly Extraordinary World; hence the Philrads rarely leave the Mountain Ridge. There, their powers are perfectly unleashed, but this power beyond the material world also acts like a sieve, filtering out most of the weak."

Palmer gently wrapped his arm around Vasilina’s shoulder. Recently, Palmer had been on vacation on the Wind Source Highlands, though it seemed more like an alternative kind of overtime. Every day, he went through the Clarks’ archives, searching for information related to the Night Race.

Progress on the Night Race was slow, but Palmer discovered connections with the Philrads in the thick tomes, which led to the secrets of the Mountain Ridge.

Vasilina listened to Palmer, gently closing her eyes, feeling a slight sense of comfort within.

"Do you want to go home and take a look?" Palmer gazed at the mountains, "I’ve never been there yet; we might as well give it a try if we get the chance."

"Better not, even the most excellent climbers find it hard to ascend those treacherous peaks," Vasilina said.

Palmer remarked, "I don’t need to climb; I just need to fly up."

Riding on the Power of Storm, stepping on one transparent cyclone after another, the terrifyingly rugged terrain was just a flat cyclone path to the Clarks.

"With your current power, trying to fly there would be too difficult."

"I’m working on it," sighed Palmer, "Not everyone can be like Bologue. His advancement as an Undead was so smooth; I can’t match that."

"When do you plan to advance to Negative Power User?" Vasilina asked.

"Wait for the notice."

"Huh?"

Vasilina was startled, then couldn’t help but smile, raising her hand to mess up Palmer’s hair into a bird’s nest.

"My sense of humor is still intact, I hope? Not numbed by work, right?" Palmer asked with a bright smile.

"Be serious!"

Vasilina adeptly wrapped her arms around Palmer’s neck, and Palmer felt a momentary suffocation that soon faded away, replaced by softness and warmth.

Inwardly, Palmer felt a mix of fear and affection towards Vasilina’s actions. When she was gentle, the closeness was surprisingly comforting, yet a little extra force from Vasilina, and Palmer felt like she could twist his head off.

Even though Vasilina was naturally frail, her strength surpassed ordinary people due to her wild bloodline. In jest, a careless punch from her might shatter a few of Palmer’s ribs.

"I really can’t imagine you as the Patriarch, feels like you’d make a mess of the Clarks," Vasilina said, ruffling Palmer’s face as he lay in her embrace, oppressively gentle like a kitten under her monstrous strength.

"Take it slow; I don’t think it’s a big problem anyway."

Having been around Bologue, Palmer became more pragmatic, never concerning himself with distant matters, only focusing on the present.

Patriarch? That seemed too distant to Palmer, as unattainable as a dream. More than such thoughts, Palmer cared about how many more days off he could enjoy.

The recent holiday has completely immersed him in Vasilina’s tenderness... Although sometimes it can be quite annoying, Palmer surprisingly likes this feeling of being managed by someone.

"Is being heartless a tradition in your family?" Vasilina said in distress.

"I can only say that I really take after my old man."

In the eyes of many, Palmer and Fuen are carved out of the same mold, whether in appearance or in character.

Don’t be fooled by how calm and composed Fuen seems now; in his youth, he was just as reckless as Palmer, if not more so.

Fuen never felt ashamed of this, nor did he care about others’ opinions.

"We are children of the storm, as carefree as the wind." Fuen often said this.

At first, people found Fuen’s words profound, but upon reflection, it was nothing more than an excuse for his behavior.

"Palmer."

Vasilina suddenly called Palmer’s name.

"What’s up?"

Originally sleepy, Palmer suddenly opened his eyes, became much more alert, and slightly nervous.

"Why are you nervous?"

"Ah... just a habit, nothing really." Palmer stammered.

When Vasilina gets angry, she never yells. She just smiles while looking at Palmer, then calls his name. By the speed and whether she uses his full name, Palmer can gauge Vasilina’s level of anger.

Like a conditioned reflex, Vasilina trained Palmer well in this regard.

"What do you want to say?"

"Um... I was thinking about going to Oubos City, Opus," Vasilina said, "to work with you."

"Huh?"

Palmer’s mind went blank.

"What, do you have any objections?"

"No... no, it’s just a bit too sudden," Palmer said with a muddled head, unable to comprehend, "Why did you suddenly think of this?"

"Because you’re too far away from me."

Vasilina’s expression turned a bit troubled, and Palmer felt something was off. He wanted to escape, but his head was firmly locked in Vasilina’s hands. Vasilina gently looked down at Palmer, but he could clearly sense the strange emotion in Vasilina’s eyes.

This wasn’t the first time Palmer had seen such eyes, suddenly bringing up many unpleasant memories.

As a "savage," Vasilina had boundless energy since childhood and a curiosity about all kinds of wrestling skills, managing to master them effortlessly after a simple understanding.

Truth comes from practice.

Vasilina needed a partner, and unfortunately, Palmer became the one constantly tossed around.

"Far... how far?"

An increasingly lousy feeling surfaced in Palmer’s mind, and he suddenly felt a bit homesick. Not for his home in the Wind Source Highlands, but for his home in Oubos City, Opus.

"Far in the literal sense, we are too far apart. It takes months to see each other once, and the time spent together is not long."

As Vasilina spoke, she kneaded Palmer’s face more forcefully. Palmer felt like his skin was about to be pulled off, and his skull was crying out in agony.

"I don’t doubt your loyalty to me, and I know that a strange guy like you wouldn’t be fancied by anyone else but me, but how should I say... it just makes me a little uneasy."

Vasilina hugged Palmer to her chest. Their breaths intertwined closely. Yet, despite the seemingly warm scene, Palmer’s face twisted, as if someone was choking him, close to suffocation.

"What if? What if someone else shares the same interest as me?"

With that, Vasilina gave Palmer a fierce kiss. Palmer had no energy to enjoy the warmth between their lips. He only felt as if he’d been bitten by a leopard, and most of his soul was almost drained.

Vasilina then held Palmer forcefully, gripping him tight.

Her soft voice resonated in Palmer’s ear.

"I really want to lock you up, Palmer."

Palmer felt like he was pressed under a hydraulic press, his whole body squeezed flat, his bones moaning in pain. He had no time to feel the love Vasilina had for him; he only felt on the brink of suffocation.

I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die!