Even though various things were happening in the academy, Rain was busy in mining.
He tightened his grip on the pickaxe, its weight providing a reassuring sense of purpose.
With a measured breath, he swung the tool with unwavering determination, the resounding clang of metal meeting stone reverberating through the dimly lit ant colony. The force of each strike sent subtle vibrations coursing through the compacted earth.
Methodically, he chipped away at the unyielding rock, reducing it to smaller, more manageable fragments.
The rhythmic motion of his muscular arms, honed through countless hours of labor, brought him solace amidst the demanding toil. Beads of perspiration formed on his brow, trickling down his face and neck, dampening his shirt. The stale air, heavy with the scent of earth and industry, filled his lungs with every breath.
Creation is hard, cheer me up! VOTE for me!
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Kinda things were not good at my side, so chapter is short.