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Following Anna’s message, Leon went alone to the outskirts of the city, accompanied by no one.
There wasn’t a trace of life, and the reason was rather simple; outside the camps of the Ferma army, the Revolutionary forces, and the Holy Church, not a single survivor remained. The air was oppressively still, and the wind that slipped through the empty buildings sounded like ghosts wailing through the ruins.
He occasionally sensed the distant presence of patrols, but none among them had the skill to see through hundreds of meters of darkness to notice him.
After walking for several minutes, Leon finally saw a familiar figure with golden hair that seemed to glow faintly even under the night sky.
“Lyon,” Leon called.
Turning around at the voice, Lyon responded, “Leon.”
Leon halted, taken aback by Lyon’s unexpected appearance.
What happened to him? He looks terrible.
The only thing unchanged was his radiant blond hair and blue eyes. The vigor and sharpness that should have marked a warrior were gone, and his gaze drifted hollowly into space. Even if he had been exhausted from the siege, there had been plenty of time to rest. His face, though, looked like someone...
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