Mark nimbly landed on a small hill bathed by gentle moonlight. On his foot, he immediately took a deep breath and began laughing wryly. He had taken an amazingly cold bath, standing in the air under a waterfall.
He felt baptized today. Like a changed man.
The hamster laid on his head like a lazy queen.
Mark clenched his hand at the sky.
The meeting with the Armor was an experience he would remember—War Slayer was an Armor that had left an impression on him more than most men could ever hope to leave.
He stretched his back with a groan and sat down on the hill, then, he silently looked up at the moon, contemplating.
Instinctively, he fell on the floor and spread his arms widely, as if hugging the heavens.
How had the battle gone?
What were the things he could have done better?
What were the gains, and what were the losses?
Mark shook his head.
