Sensing Ah Dai's disappearance, Harry once again appeared in the courtyard. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his age-worn face. "My child, I believe, you will understand," he said.
Ah Dai found the wind whistling past his ears relentless; even in the white light that enveloped him like a shooting star, he couldn't escape Harry's words. He wasn't particularly chasing speed—rather, the two stories the Western Swordsman had told him served as a backdrop to his thoughts. Before he knew it, he found himself standing before a large city—his journey up to this point reflected in the massive stone structures towering above him. He halted all thought and motion.
A sprawling city lay before him—the magnificent stone walls soared thirty meters high; a wide moat protected the city, lending a sense of calm to the otherwise menacing night sky. The grand city gate held a stone plaque, inscribed with three words in Holy Church text: The City of Light.
