Pilgrimage Peak, on the summit of [Humans].
"Our Frost Race has secluded itself in this isolated Land of Extreme Cold to avoid getting involved in the disputes among the Hundred Races."
"After thousands of years, our Frost Race has long adapted to everything here."
"That's why the world calls us the Snow Race."
In a lush forest, outside a simple thatched hut.
An elderly man with graying hair, seemingly close to merging with the wood, stood leaning on his cane in the courtyard, raising his eyes to the falling autumn leaves and listening to the clear songs of birds and insects around:
Flos Lv86
Great Elder of the Frost Race
It was unclear how much time had passed when Flos suddenly sighed with emotion and said:
"When the Demon Race descended upon this continent five hundred years ago, the God Kalsa came to me more than once, hoping to enlist our Frost Race to join the Hundred Races in resisting the demon invasion."
"But I refused."
