Near the center of the Belmont Holy Land, Dyon, Patriarch Ragnor and Elder Daiyu walked through the fields of grass.
The closer they got to the hand, the less even Patriarch Ragnor and Elder Daiyu were able to keep their composure. It had been a long time since Elder Daiyu lost his nonchalance as it became more and more difficult to walk and breathe. However, their goal wasn't to reach the hand itself – that would be nothing short of suicide.
Their destination had been purposefully placed. It had to be close enough to the entity to mean something, but it also had to be far enough that they could play their part without dying.
Swirls of red and blue flames danced on Elder Daiyu's palms, seemingly acting like guides. They only pointed in the same direction simultaneously when they faced the correct direction.
Everything about this was odd to Dyon. If this was truly meant to be a prison, why were Belmont family flames capable of leading the way?
