Beside the Knight of Swords lay a boundless lake, its quiet crimson waters shimmering under the moonlight of the night, occasionally stirred by a breeze.
Lumian couldn't help but lift his head to gaze upward, feeling the night sky, hung with a crimson moon, seemed closer and much clearer than usual. Even the stars, obscured by the moonlight, were faintly visible, dense as if forming a brilliant, vast river.
A chilly wind blew past, and Lumian, dressed in a thick jacket, turned his attention back to the Knight of Swords and asked, "Aren't you cold?"
Although it was summer in the Southern Continent, their high altitude and thin air made it feel significantly colder, especially at night, with temperatures likely below 15 degrees Celsius.
Originally gazing at the highland lake, the Knight of Swords turned to Lumian and said, "For me, temperature has lost its meaning, and besides, the cold suits me better."
