We arrived on the ground, somewhere on the hillside of the Colosseo, not far from the estuary judging by the position of the seawall.

The air carried a faint, salty moisture, a scent I had never encountered before. I licked my nose, tasting the bitter tang of the sea breeze as it blossomed on my tongue. The trees around us swayed in the wind, their branches whispering a soft, serene melody.

Near Hadrian's Wall, there were only coniferous forests and arrow bamboo*, so this was my first time seeing broadleaf trees. Their round, plump leaves looked... different.

The sky was a murky gray, blocking most of the sunlight and making the air around us slightly cool.

"The weather's pretty fitting," Qana commented after glancing up at the sky, quickly tapping something on his terminal.

I stretched as I waited, unsure of what Qana had planned for today.

"Help me warm up, get moving a bit." He slipped his terminal back into the armband, turning to face me. "This afternoon, I need to remind a few overly cocky pups of their place." A slight smile played on his lips. "And test out the Colosseo's equipment while I'm at it."

"Nothing better than turning work into play, right?" I muttered, hoping Qana wasn't hinting at something. He had been smiling more in the past two days than he probably did in an entire year, and while that might be a good thing, I found it a little unnerving.

"Try to take the stone from my hand." He flashed a toothy grin at me, opening his right hand to reveal a device glowing with blue light. "Circle radius can't exceed one meter, and no object manipulation."

As soon as Qana finished speaking, he became a white blur, speeding off into the distance.

A swordmaster who must weigh at least a hundred kilos, plus that broadsword and cloak, moving with such speed and agility through the forest--I was certain he was using his consciousness to propel and adjust himself.

If it was a matter of speed, I probably wouldn't lose to the bulky swordmaster.

Lowering my center of gravity, I tensed my legs, letting my body lean forward under gravity, then pushed off with a powerful thrust before hitting the ground, like an arrow shot from a bowstring, slicing through the air and sending a shockwave through the surroundings, scattering sand and dead leaves into the air.

I kept accelerating, adjusting the downward force to counteract gravity. It was difficult with my center of mass constantly shifting, but I didn't need to achieve static balance, just minimize the impact. With a flip, I landed on a massive tree trunk, bent my legs, adjusted my direction, and launched myself again.

I could already see the white tail of the swordmaster flicking back and forth. At this rate, I'd catch up to him soon. But what to do once I caught up and tried to take the "stone"? That was something I still needed to figure out.

When I realized I had just triggered some sort of tripwire, it was too late. Metal rings snapped open, and I heard the swish of wires slicing through the weeds as they were rapidly withdrawn, giving me just enough time to raise a defensive circle.

At first, I saw flames and black smoke, then countless sharp fragments rained down on me like a torrential downpour, followed by a shockwave.

Claymore mine? You've got to be kidding me. Isn't using this stuff in a competition a bit too hardcore? If I weren't a psychic, I'd be full of holes by now!

The fragments sprayed at me in a torrent, striking the edge of my defensive circle with a sharp, shattering sound, outlining its contours.

The shockwave rippled across the defensive circle, reverberating back and forth, distorting the light and sending colorful spots and shadows dancing in the air.

Qana had once told me that the purest essence of a defensive circle was rejection; it didn't interact with the physical world, just kept things apart. So, I figured there must be other types of defensive circles.

Bursting through the smoke, I immediately searched for Qana's position--there he was! The swordmaster hadn't stopped to watch me fall into the trap, continuing to race forward without looking back.

I repeated my previous tactics, closing the distance between us again. Then I heard the whir of gears and shafts, followed by a wave of heat that grazed my back, making the fur on my neck stand on end.

From all directions, barrels emerged, firing high-energy plasma shots at me.

I whipped my tail to the other side, shifting my center of gravity and adding an extra vector push, finely adjusting the angle, flipping sideways over a capture net fired from somewhere, and several plasma blasts.

The moment I touched the ground, I sprinted again, leaving the attacks behind.

These obstacles were annoying, sure, but they were nothing compared to the swordmaster's relentless, powerful, and deadly strikes.

Then I stepped on some sort of pressure plate. The faint click was impossible to hear amidst the chaos, but I felt the trigger and the discontinuity in the ground.

Several silver metal balls shot up from the ground, glowing red. As they reached their peak, I saw they were regular icosahedrons--dragon-specific mines designed to disrupt energy rather than cause shrapnel damage, meant to penetrate dragon scales.

This gave me an idea.

I pushed myself to the limit, sprinting forward at top speed until I was ahead of all the icosahedrons.

Then, they all exploded.

Though unnecessary, it helped me focus. So, I turned around and began modifying the composition of my defensive circle. I edited the commands, forming a structure similar to a mirror field but capable of interacting with the physical space, then anchored the center of mass to my chest--I figured this should work in theory.

When the flames and shockwaves struck the defensive circle, it felt like a punch to the chest, sending me flying backward.

I managed to counteract the force in time to prevent injury, but I probably cracked a rib--I really should've thought it through more.

But the reckless strategy achieved the desired effect--I was propelled forward at high speed, using the extra vector adjustments to avoid obstacles. I even thought I could feel the sound barrier forming in front of my defensive circle as I flew.

I saw Qana's ears twitch as he quickly turned around, trying to prepare a stance, drawing his broadsword partially out. But the swordmaster clearly didn't expect me to move this fast, so I crashed right into the burly white wolf, sending us both flying.

I had become so familiar with Qana that I could infiltrate his consciousness field in an instant, so the swordmaster's defensive circle was immediately dispersed. The momentary disorientation from the breach should give me enough time.

We tumbled across the ground, rolling several times, with me constantly trying to grab the object in his hand, but the intense pain in my ribs kept getting in the way.

Finally, we came to a stop, and I quickly tried to get up, but a flash of silver light filled my vision, and the next thing I saw was the vast expanse of gray sky and a few clusters of dense green tree canopies.

"Using the explosion's shockwave?" I saw Qana standing next to me, looking down at me as he adjusted his sword--clearly, he had struck my snout with the hilt just now. "How did you manage that?"

"Inspired by the mirror field." My swollen cheek made my speech slurred. "I wanted to use the recoil to propel me, so..." I carved the commands into the space, drawing blue lines to illustrate my process.

Qana's deep blue eyes scanned the pattern quickly, then he burst into laughter.

"You didn't have to anchor the center of mass to yourself." He seemed amused. "That's a rookie mistake; the laws of physics work a bit differently in the consciousness field. I'll teach you the details later." He waved his hand to dispel my carving. "Sorry, my bad." He extended a hand to help me up, still smiling.

"Good to know..." Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my side, and I stumbled, opening my mouth in pain but unable to make a sound.

Qana immediately crouched down to catch me, gently laying me on the ground with my head resting on a fallen log. I carved the word "rib" into the space and indicated the approximate location, using all my strength to resist the urge to curl up.

The swordmaster nodded, his broad hand feeling around my chest while I continued to cough weakly, barely able to draw a breath.

Then, there were two sharp cracks, like breaking branches, followed by even more excruciating pain from my side, causing me to scream out. Well, at least I could breathe now.

Qana injected something into me just below my collarbone, and I felt a cold sensation spreading through my body.

"Nanodrones?" I recognized the design of the injector; it was a Federation invention.

"Yes." Qana calmly responded, continuing to check my injuries, gently manipulating each joint.

"If I... got blown to pieces... by that directional mine... would this work too?" I panted heavily, tasting the metallic tang of blood in my mouth.

"No." Qana leaned in close to my eyes as he replied, checking each pupil in turn. "But I know there's no way a claymore mine would hit you. Even your passive defensive circle in your sleep could block that level of attack."

"How... reassuring, huh?" I gave Qana a sarcastic smile before coughing again.

"Cut the sarcasm." Qana snorted, supporting my neck to help me sit up slowly. Resting against the fallen tree, I tilted my muzzle upwards, gasping for air.

The sky was still gray, filled with the scent of ash and flames, and I could still taste the blood in my mouth. Licking my nose, I swallowed the dirt and sand that had gotten into my mouth while rolling on the ground--tasting much better than the synthetic food that machines churn out.

I moved my jaw, confirming that the swelling in my cheek had subsided. It seemed the nanodrones had finished their repairs. Shifting my body, I propped myself up, leaning against the fallen tree, though still feeling a bit weak.

Qana sat next to me, steady, determined, reliable--just like... like...

I lifted my gaze, turning my head to look at the older white wolf, searching my mind for a missing word.

Qana noticed my gaze and glanced at me out of the corner of his eye before turning around, tilting his head, and folding down his right ear.

"I just think..." I shifted my gaze to the sky and sniffed the air twice. The burning smell had lessened; I could smell the forest's decaying undergrowth and the scent of dry grass above it. "Sometimes, this isn't so bad." I nudged Qana gently with my elbow. "I think I might like... outdoor."

I heard the sound of my tail's fur brushing against the fallen tree. After failing to stop it from wagging, I awkwardly rested my chin on my knees.

A thick, warm weight pressed down on the top of my head, ruffling my fur and making it all messy.

"Don't get too relaxed," Qana said sternly, but I could still detect a hint of gentleness in his tone. "I only let you out here because I'm certain there's no one in the ground level of Colosseo and the adamantine shield is fully intact." He took his hand off and pointed to the ground.

"I know." I lowered my ears and eyes, trying to tidy up the fur on my head.

"If only you were actually that obedient," Qana suddenly said in a plaintive tone, giving me a light tap on the back of my head.

"What?" I flattened my ears backward in confusion.

Qana fiddled with his terminal, bringing it in front of me, and started playing a video.

"...A bold move indeed, but after sacrificing three Aeshs, the last one able to provide cover for Piqsirpoq has also fallen! The leader of Snow finds himself in the worst situation, surrounded, and with the alliance formed to against Snow, will anything change now that Piqsirpoq has been taken down?"

Piqsirpoq was surrounded by gray wolves of different fur colors, but each faction only had one member left. Besides Nyx, they had two other members, including Olethros.

"Perhaps Nyx will become the new target for this unstable alliance, or maybe Nyx, with their numerical advantage, will immediately turn on the others." Lux shrugged. He still didn't seem happy, likely because Flash's only remaining member was barely standing.

"Everyone could just stick to the previous agreement and divide the occupied territories, right? Why are you all suddenly so pessimistic?" Thanatos said, winking at Lux, who huffed.

"What are you all worrying about?" Willow said, adjusting her glasses. "At least wait until Piqsirpoq actually falls before you start imagining things." She glanced around the room from behind her lenses. "Didn't Qana say that Snow could wipe out all the factions without any difficulty?"

After Willow spoke, Thanatos gave her a pointed look, but Willow showed no reaction. Instead, Qana cleared his throat and rubbed his right eye a few times.

I glanced at the sword master sitting beside me. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, clearly showing he didn't want to hear my opinion. I had no choice but to turn my attention back to the terminal interface and continue watching the video.

"...Snow's combat abilities are well-known, but no matter how powerful, a one-against-seven situation is still challenging, right?" a gray wolf said. His eyes were also gray, with a bluish glint at certain angles.

"I have to agree with Willow..." Thanatos narrowed his eyes slightly, speaking seriously. "Blink is almost unable to stand, and the strength of a chain is determined by its weakest link." He pointed to the yellow dot representing Flash.

"But he doesn't even have a plasma rifle," the gray wolf said again. "How could he possibly break through with just that sword?" He poked at Piqsirpoq's equipment info, highlighting the section marked "longsword." I noticed the description area was empty.

At that moment, Piqsirpoq drew his sword, discarding the sheath, and held the blade level. I couldn't tell what stance he was preparing to use.

"Due to safety concerns, plasma rifles can't fire within four meters of a living being," Willow said, adjusting her glasses again. "You should really see what a skilled sword master can do with that weapon at this distance." The gray wolf tilted his head, glanced at Qana, but still wasn't convinced by Willow's argument.

"I was initially against this, but the event planning committee was very insistent," Qana said, somewhat irritated, folding his arms across his chest. "Don't you all find it odd that there was a longsword in the equipment crate in the central zone?"

"Oh, no way," Thanatos seemed to realize something, and that ever-present annoying smile finally vanished from his face. "This is too dangerous!"

"So none of you read my objection memo?" Qana said, pressing his palm to his forehead and brushing the fur on his muzzle a few times.

The other masters, except for Willow, all wore confused expressions, clearly hating being kept in the dark but choosing not to say anything more.

"No... maybe it's not that serious. Even with the right tools, you still need the skill to use them," Thanatos muttered to himself but suddenly stopped, glancing at the sword master. "Qana... does Piqsirpoq have that skill?"

"I'm not sure," Qana sighed, rummaging through his pocket before placing a silver metal ingot on the table. "But if anything too extreme happens, I can stop it from here."

Thanatos visibly relaxed, nodding and leaning back in his chair.

"Am I the only one taking my job seriously?" The sword master wrinkled his nose in displeasure, sparking a murmur of discontent.

"Nyx always acts like he's above everyone else, fine," a gray wolf with a mix of black, white, and gray fur said, glaring at Thanatos. "Qana, explain what's going on. Why do only you three seem to know anything?"

"None of you received my objection memo?" Qana asked, and all the masters shook their heads, looking even more puzzled. "Then why are your signatures on the design committee's approval?"

"What signatures?" Lux was the first to ask.

"This is not a good sign," Qana rubbed his forehead, glancing at the camera. "Stop recording."

Even through the screen, I could feel Qana's anxiety, but I intended to keep watching.

"Is there a need to stop the Selection process?" Willow asked, staring intently at the image of Piqsirpoq on the table.

"At this stage? Do you want to see the Senate riot?" Thanatos shook his head. "Qana, are you sure the two are connected, and can you really 'synchronize' here?"

The sword master showed a surprised expression but quickly regained his composure, weighing the metal ingot in his hand before nodding in confirmation.

"Then I think we shouldn't show any obvious signs of concern. It might alert the wrong people." Thanatos shook his head, leaning back in his chair and putting on that smile again. "If we plan to find out who has the guts to challenge the Senate and who they're working for."

"I'm pretty sure whoever it is, they've already noticed something's wrong," Willow waved her hand, gesturing towards the camera. "Let's focus on minimizing the damage first."

The other masters still seemed unhappy, clearly disliking being kept in the dark, but none of them said anything further.

"Sorry for the technical difficulties earlier, but it looks like the issue has been resolved, and we've arrived just in time for the most exciting part--Piqsirpoq has launched an attack!"

Piqsirpoq charged toward Blink, dirt flying up as the white wolf quickly closed the gap between them. Several plasma bolts were fired at him, but Piqsirpoq dodged left and right, then leaped into the air, flipping his body to avoid all the attacks.

But it was clear that Blink had been waiting for this moment--when Piqsirpoq, suspended in midair, exposed a weakness, unable to change his position. He fired his weapon, a ball of plasma hurtling toward Piqsirpoq, and there was no way the white wolf could evade it in time.

But evasion wasn't part of Piqsirpoq's plan.

Using the momentum of his midair rotation, he slashed at the plasma ball with his sword. But instead of "slashing," it was more like "deflecting"... and the plasma ball, as if parried, flew off in the direction of Piqsirpoq's sword swing.

"What just happened? Piqsirpoq deflected the plasma ball! That's an adamantine weapon--young Snow is wielding an adamantine weapon!"

The masters seated around the round table each displayed varying degrees of stiffness, with Master from Grey faction, his jaw practically dropping to the floor.

"Oh, poor Arashi got hit by the redirected plasma and lost consciousness--Mottle is down first! But don't feel too bad; Flash will soon face the same fate!"

Arashi clearly hadn't anticipated the attack. Even as he was sent flying by the plasma ball, his face remained frozen in surprise, eyes wide open.

Blink didn't fare much better either. Piqsirpoq's movements were too fast; with a single slash, he cut Blink's rifle, which he had tried to use to block the attack, into countless tiny fragments. In the next moment, the white wolf closed the distance, gripping the sword and using the guard like a hammer to strike Blink's head. The blond wolf didn't even have time to show surprise or let out a yelp before losing consciousness.

"That thing isn't sharpened, is it?" Master from Grey faction mumbled, rubbing his jaw.

"That's a 'adamantine' weapon," Thanatos said, glancing at Qana. "In the hands of someone qualified to use it, such trivial details wouldn't make any difference." Qana made no response.

"Wood and Ash's team members were also taken down in just two moves. Snow's combat prowess truly overwhelms all other factions! Oh, poor Hypnos!"

The black wolf was kicked under the chin by Piqsirpoq, spinning like a top as he fell. The other wolves hadn't even had time to prepare to counter Piqsirpoq before they were taken down.

Piqsirpoq's movements were incredibly fast--faster than I remembered from before. No, it wasn't just speed. The fluidity and balance of those movements were... perfect. He dodged the plasma with minimal effort, not even a hair out of place. And in close combat, there wasn't a single unnecessary motion--every move was deadly.

Oh, so that's what it is.

I sneaked a guilty glance at the sword master sitting beside me. Feeling his glare, I quickly turned my gaze back to the terminal.

The remaining grey wolves were taken down with little effective resistance, leaving only Olethros, who quickly abandoned his plasma rifle and drew two claw blades from his waist.

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! In just a moment, Piqsirpoq has taken down most of his opponents, bringing the match to a one-on-one! Now, it's the showdown between the two top contenders in this Selection: Piqsirpoq Snow and Olethros Nyx! Who will emerge victorious?"

Piqsirpoq assumed the Ice Shove stance, raising his sword hilt above his head, the blade pointing skyward. Olethros crouched, holding his claw blades in reverse grips across his chest.

Although it was one-on-one, it was clear that the white wolf was already exhausted. His irregular breathing caused his chest to rise and fall unevenly. Piqsirpoq even had to stick out his tongue to dissipate heat, a sign that he had pushed himself to the limit. Not to mention the looseness of his stance--his heels on the ground, his forearm holding the sword trembling slightly--Piqsirpoq likely didn't have the energy left for the fluid movements from earlier.

Meanwhile, Olethros' yellow eyes remained intensely focused, showing no signs of weakness.

Even with Piqsirpoq's advantage of a long-bladed weapon, the outcome of a direct clash was still uncertain.

Olethros made the first move, charging forward, clearly not intending to give his opponent any chance to catch his breath, hoping to capitalize on Piqsirpoq's accumulated fatigue from the previous battles to gain the upper hand.

Piqsirpoq didn't hesitate, bringing down his sword with immense force. Olethros crossed his arms to block, the impact causing his knees to buckle, but the black wolf successfully parried the attack.

Piqsirpoq immediately retracted his blade and stepped back, spinning halfway around to deliver another strike with the Glacier Second Form from the side. Olethros ducked low to avoid the blow, stepping forward again to close the distance. Piqsirpoq bent his arm, bringing the sword hilt back to his ribs, significantly increasing his angular velocity, and adjusted the angle of his wrist to side-swipe from the other direction before Olethros could get close enough to strike.

This forced Olethros to raise his blade to block, and with a loud clank, sparks flew. The sharp edge maintained contact, continuing to spray sparks as the black wolf was thrown off balance by Piqsirpoq's pressure.

Olethros dug his toes into the ground, leaving two long trails. But he didn't pause, and in the next moment, with tense and bent legs, he charged forward again. Piqsirpoq responded with the Frost Form, holding his sword hilt at his chest, thrusting repeatedly to push the black wolf back.

Piqsirpoq hated the Frost Form, which focused on defense. He must have been really tired.

Olethros clearly knew this too, so he finally found an opening and broke through the range of Piqsirpoq's sword tip. Piqsirpoq swung a horizontal slash to try to create some distance, but this time, Olethros was too close.

Piqsirpoq raised his sword hilt, using the guard as a weapon, but Olethros dodged backward, simultaneously slashing out with his claw blades. Then, they began to spin.

Like two whirlwinds, one black and one white, harmoniously synchronized yet fiercely opposed--it was the deadliest dance.

They used every part of their weapons and bodies for attack, while simultaneously dodging or blocking to protect their footing, each trying to unbalance the other. Every move considered the change in their own center of gravity and their next strike--each posture was the result of careful calculation against the other. Yes, it was a dance.

Finally, Piqsirpoq, due to exhaustion, couldn't keep up with the rhythm, giving Olethros a chance to kick his leg, causing the white wolf to fall sideways. The camera caught a smug grin on the black wolf's face, revealing his white fangs.

But at that moment, the relaxation from thinking he had won was a fatal mistake.

Piqsirpoq had already swung his tail to the other side while still in the air, adjusting his posture. Before even touching the ground, he swept his leg forcefully at Olethros' footing.

This unexpected move caused Olethros to topple sideways as well, but unlike Piqsirpoq, he wasn't prepared for the landing. The black wolf hit the ground with a twisted expression, his upper body arched as if all the air in his lungs had been knocked out.

Taking advantage of his opponent's momentary lapse, Piqsirpoq quickly regained his stance, bounced back up, and straddled Olethros' torso, pinning him down while holding the black wolf's wrist and palm, pressing the claw blade against Olethros' own throat.

Olethros' yellow eyes were full of surprise. Both wolves gasped for breath, their bodies heaving. After a while, the black wolf closed his mouth, lowered his ears, and exposed his throat, raising his free hand slightly in a fist at his chest.

"It looks like we have our final winner, ladies and gentlemen--Piqsirpoq Snow!"

The screen showed a close-up of Piqsirpoq's face, drenched in sweat, slightly disheveled, with some singed fur. He was breathing heavily, as if he might collapse at any moment. But those eyes, like a frozen lake, still shone with unyielding and proud determination.

The commentator said something more, but I didn't pay attention, nor did I listen to the masters' commentary. My attention was entirely on the scene of Piqsirpoq extending a hand to Olethros, helping him up.

"I thought Piqsirpoq would give him a kick or two," I joked, only to get a punch on the head from Qana. "Oh, come on, I was just joking!" I complained, rubbing the sore spot.

"It wasn't because of your nagging." Qana put the terminal back onto his arm. "It's because you almost made me start taking blood pressure medication." He emphasized this by glaring at me. "Imagine my shock when I saw Piqsirpoq displaying 'the stance of a psychic.' I almost spat blood."

"I didn't say anything I wasn't supposed to," I defended myself in a compliant tone. "I've followed all the rules you set."

Qana snorted dismissively but didn't go any further in reprimanding me.

"The fact that he can wield an adamantine weapon was completely unexpected. Just the 'Domination' part alone startled me, and if 'Resonance' happens, I'll have to intervene." The sword master took a small metal ingot out of his pocket as he spoke.

I could feel... a faint resonance. So, this is adamantine, a metal that interacts uniquely with psychic abilities? Qana had briefly explained it to me before, saying that this material could exhibit special properties under the influence of psychic, but that was it--he believed it was still too dangerous for me.

"Piqsirpoq's performance was really impressive. I think you can learn a lot from it, so study the recording carefully. We'll discuss it later--including the part about adamantine weapons." He glanced at me, and I lowered my ears, assuming a submissive posture. He sighed, clenched the adamantine ingot in his hand, knocked on my head once, and then stuffed his hand back into his pocket.

"Later, we screened all the staff and communication records, but we couldn't find anyone responsible for this little incident. Someone or some group went to great lengths to place an adamantine weapon in the Colosseo, and we're not even sure about their motives or any clues to their identity." Qana looked up at the sky, a hint of worry in his eyes.

The sword master's expression made me shift uncomfortably.

"The Senate has been complacent for too long, that's true. But the fact that someone could pull this off right under our noses is still unsettling. There aren't many forces capable of this, and the most likely one has already denied it." I could only guess that Qana was referring to "them." "So, this could be the first step of some far-reaching conspiracy, or it could just be some kind of prank, but either way, we don't know."

"What kind of impact could an adamantine weapon in the Colosseo have?" I didn't quite grasp the significance of the situation, so I could only speculate. "Could it be some faction trying to give their team an advantage?"

"The person who placed the weapon had no idea who would end up with it. Besides, Piqsirpoq is the only psychic in this Selection." Qana slowly stroked the fur on his chin as he spoke. "And he's a hot favorite. As long as Snow doesn't do anything bizarre, Piqsirpoq is bound to become an Elector. There's no need to increase the risk of him injuring others or himself."

To be honest, I still didn't fully understand the political power mechanisms of the Senate, but I didn't feel the need to either.

"So," Qana turned to look me in the eyes, emphasizing his point, "until the Selection is over, keep a low profile--face on the ground kind of low."

"Yes, Master," I replied in a submissive tone, lowering my gaze and ears. The worry and seriousness Qana had just displayed were more intense than usual, which, I figured, was saying something.

Qana nodded, his expression relaxing slightly. We sat there for a while longer, enjoying the soothing sensation of the cool breeze ruffling our fur.

I lifted my snout and sniffed the air; the scent of ashes had disappeared, replaced by the fresh fragrance of the forest, mingling with the dampness of the earth. I pricked my ears, listening to the sound of treetops and pampas grass swaying in the wind, a subtle difference between the two if you paid close attention. At that moment, in the gray sky, a thin layer of clouds parted, and a golden ray of sunlight pierced through, falling onto a slope not far away. It gave me a sense of... peace.

"Really no staying over?"

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"No."

"Oh..."

"Oh, what?"

"Yes, Master."

"Mm-hmm."