Up until now, Dmitry still had black hair.
This meant that the divine blood within him had not yet been activated, and he remained mortal.
This seemed somewhat inconceivable.
Among the three siblings, as the cleric and the grandmother's oldest child, Dmitry should have been the closest to the grandmother.
But as of now... it was only he who had yet to awaken.
"You've made it, Annan."
Looking at Annan's silver hair, as well as the dragon scales emerging around his collarbone and neck, Dmitry's tightly knitted brows also relaxed quite a bit.
His expression somewhat complex, he said softly, "Do you... still remember me?"
"I know you."
Annan answered calmly, "My brother, Dmitry Winter."
To know, rather than to remember—
Savoring this subtle difference, Dmitry's gaze dimmed for a moment.
...If Maria heard this news, she might secretly cry.
Dmitry cracked a smile, as if attempting a bitter laugh, but it never quite surfaced.
