The previous night; Kekumi Xetuka was seated in a study room situated at the top of The Aira, a lone tower positioned a kilometre to the northern fort. It had been constructed in the course of a week just to act as a watchtower from where she could keep an eye on Gormana.
Held in her hands was a sword, a Relic that had been passed down their family for more than a millennium. Created by her grandfather, the Pseudo-Relic of that time gradually evolved into a Relic once it reached her hands, having accumulated enough mental imprints.
'The west is already broiled in chaos. And it's only a matter of time before Gormana erupts into an offensive.' She sighed at the thought, clenching her hand into a fist, 'If it's just Garmd, I can defeat him. But if two Saints attack, even I wouldn't be able to do anything. And once I fall, Xetuka would only become weaker. The north would collapse.'
