Early in the morning when the cold air could be felt.

  Airn Pareira, who woke up, sat still after a long time, and then entered into the world of imagery.

  An iron sword which stood tall.

  A flame which burnt constantly so that the sword wouldn’t turn dull.

  There was even a stream of water running around so that the flame didn’t spread too strongly.

  At first glance, the stream didn't seem different from when he attained enlightenment in Lloyd’s estate.

  But it wasn’t just that.

  Even more solemnly than before, Airn nodded, looking at the deep and wide river in front of him.

  ‘This time too… I have been helped by so many people.’


  The emotions in the dark pit were removed and had spilled out.

  “…”


  “…”


  A priest.

  A clown.

  And a swordsman beside them, watched the spar quietly.