The next moment, a phrase emerged in Annan's mind.
It was spoken by the great-grandmother in the language of dragons... Merely hearing this phrase made Annan feel his health rapidly depleting.
"...The word 'Winter' was born before the advent of the seasons, even before the birth of light and fire. It was first used to describe the tranquil quietness of the heavens at the birth of the earth, like a dying old man; and the earth's hatred for all things that are passing away yet have not passed..."
—That was as far as it went.
Annan had already lost consciousness by then.
When he woke up again, his health was a precarious 1%. The interior of the Tower of Frost had formed another layer of exceedingly beautiful frost.
The two and a half sentences about the "secret of creation" that Annan had heard before were deeply engraved in his heart.
"...What's with the stern face, telling me to fight on my own, and something about resolve and desires..."
