The Force Crafting Guild was a place of abject luxury. Every tree, every blade of grass, every paved road, and every crystal clear window was immaculately sculpted. Not a single thing was out of place and the pompousness could almost be smelled through the air.
Although Leonel had never been to the Capital of Earth while war wasn't raging, he had always imagined that it was like this. However, even to his imagination, this place felt like… a bit too much of an exaggeration.
Every person he passed by seemed to want to make sure that their status was plastered for all to see. They wore their badges prominent to one chest and their affiliations just as proudly to the other. Their noses were practically so high in the air that they didn't even bother to look down on Leonel for dressing so casually. How could they? Their gazes were enraptured by the skies above.
