Under the dusky sky of nuclear dust, Black Crows flew out from the temple at the top of Mount Utok. Their dark wings carried the flames of war, and with the top of Mount Utok as the center, they drew flames in all directions.
A noble was drinking fine wine and holding a woman. He looked at the graceful and graceful singer at the banquet in front of him and laughed loudly. Suddenly, he saw the black crows flying toward him from the windowsill, and his expression changed slightly.
A priest and deacon in a pure white robe was reading through the detailed records of today’s case. Suddenly, he heard the sound of wings flapping outside the window. He turned his head and saw a black crow stopping on the window lattice, there was an exquisite small scroll tied to its sharp black claws, and its dark black pupils reflected its own face.
