The mountain rose like a silent colossus, covered by a cloak of dark green grass that swayed gently with the wind, as if breathing alongside the earth. Its slopes were steep, yet alive, speckled with rare flowers and natural crystals that reflected a subtle light. Large arcane inscriptions were carved into the stones that emerged from the vegetation, glowing in golden tones under the cloudy sky, written in languages forgotten even by the gods.
At the summit, golden towers protruded like ceremonial thorns, reflecting celestial light with an almost blinding intensity. Rays of energy crossed the sky, connecting the mountain to distant points, as if it were the heart of a vast divine network. Even the gods hesitated to touch its peak, where the air was dense and time seemed to slow down, demanding respect in silence.
