The Great Rift Valley.
With a single step, Owen appeared within a newly claimed stretch of land—an enormous rift valley that had just been enveloped by the expanding borders of his divine territory.
Nestled between two towering mountain peaks, the valley was a natural funnel for the fierce winds howling through it. Violent gusts surged in from every direction, magnified by the terrain. The winds shrieked with such force that they seemed to crease and warp the very fabric of the air.
Even the solid mountain stone, forged by millennia of pressure, had been carved into jagged ridges and fissures by the merciless gales. The very rock bore scars—etched deep and wide—left by the relentless fury of the wind.
Owen stood silently, gazing over the desolate scene. A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
This place was extraordinary.
