The sky seemed to have cracked open a vast chasm, pouring down endless threads of silver, the rain falling like a mad drummer, hammering the earth with a deafening roar.
The entire world was enveloped by rain, murky and chaotic, the dense droplets merging into torrents that surged and leaped across the ground, whipping up layers of white spray.
Trees lining the streets of Cyart Royal Capital swayed in the storm, their branches and leaves clattering under the assault of the rain.
Within a villa in the wealthy district, in the master bedroom.
Marquis Vlad, "Volcano Dragon," adorned in black, held a glass of red wine in his hand as he calmly watched his old friend, Marquis Samuel, "White Spirit."
Vlad Castleton spoke serenely:
"It's quite marvelous, isn't it? We've just lived a bit longer."
