The radiance of Order burst into the sky and pained the pitch-black night sky in white.
"Your Royal Highness."
Amund stood on the balcony and gazed with knitted brows at the pure, magnificent color of Order in the distance. He gaped, but couldn't utter a word. Lydia waved her hand casually and narrowed her eyes to admire the view.
"Don't worry, Teacher Amund. Beautiful flowers will eventually produce sweet fruits. This is a natural process. No matter what we do, we can't reverse it. The trajectory of this world is fixed forever. Besides… I never go back on my promises."
"But, Your Royal Highness, what if… the Country of Darkness…"
