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Swoosh—
The North Wind howled, bringing with it the chill of winter.
Within the Maze Lock of Silver Moon City, the God of West Wind felt as if he was on edge every moment.
However, reality never shifted according to one's will. Who knew how long he'd been waiting here silently?
It wasn't until he received that feather quill that belonged to him that the God of West Wind finally felt a glimmer of hope.
Finally, it had arrived. Time to begin... He couldn't wait any longer.
Ending this journey early would be ideal. As a god, he wasn't meant for this damned exam; his destiny was the banquet of Mount Olympus.
Even a second longer here felt like a waste of life to Zephyrus.
"Caw—"
"Brother, how are you prepared for this exam?"
"!"
With feathers puffing up for the third time, the God of West Wind turned around abruptly.
But all he saw was an ordinary three-legged sparrow.
"Can you talk?"
