As the night wore on, a soft ray of light peeked through the cracks of the curtains.
It was daybreak.
Agatha had barely slept all night. Her head had been spinning with Nightingale's words.
"The mortals of this continent are the most powerful ones."
"So much can change in 400 years. Why can't you let go of past ideas?"
"You still have much time ahead of you. You can confirm it with your own eyes."
Agatha rolled out of bed and walked over to her clothes-rack, resting her hand on the robe of the Taquila Quest Society. As she reminisced about gaining the unanimous approval of the Three Chief Witches when she earned this robe, her spirits leaped with joy. Exploring the mysteries of magic power had always been her lifelong pursuit, and the Quest Society's most revered motto was "Existence is truth". So, if those mortals really could prove their ability...
Agatha put on her robe, opened the door, and walked towards the grand hall.
