Turbulent wind and maelstrom were scattered across the southeast wasteland on Area 101. There might be an important event and a catastrophic encounter made by the Faranor Citadel within the Tavaroth Continent, but within Domeniul Ceresc, everything only bloomed with joy.
One of the formerly optimistic groups of Mandragoras called the Pine-Looters, were going back to their secret base while towing a wagon filled with a pitiful dragon-like kappa.
"Uuuh, this thing turns out to be an uncookable material." One of the Pine-Looters sighed, still maintaining her nonchalant smile. "I thought we were able to win with our ultimate spice combination."
"Life is like that," the other Pine-Looters shrugged one-handed. "When there is a way, there ought to be an abrupt thing blocking the path. Either that, or there isn't a path in our frame to begin with~"
