It was a quiet and dark, rainy night.
The bell had rung twelve times in Sharp Blade Valley of the Tower of Eradication. Hill Crassus still had his eyes shut tightly as he knelt motionlessly in front of a gigantic statue of a knight. His whole body was soaked in rain, but he did not seem to feel anything.
Crassus' hands were placed on a sword with a cross-guard, along with silver and diamond ornaments. The body of the sword was sleek and graceful, while both sides of the blade were engraved with two lines of the Ancient Empire's language.
[We struggle endlessly.]
[The truth never dies.]
His face pressed firmly against the hilt of the sword. Crassus' eyes squeezed shut even tighter.
'Why?... Why do we have such a truth lying behind the noble goal of our existence? The enemy we have been fighting with all our might turned out to be...
'Why?'
