"Mel, where are you marching?"
Nalt, the leader of the group of ten figures, spoke outside his gaze, but Mel's decision was final.
"Gather your belongings and trail me!"
The young boy voiced his final word and turned around. The remainder had no choice but to execute what he commanded. They would either follow the figure who hauled them to the Green Shadow Academy or fight for existence in this ruin.
Mel began to walk with his group. His strides were firm and elegant. Even though the children from common lineages had trouble keeping up with him, he seemed to harbor no intention of slowing down. His eyes were fixed on a coordinate ahead of him.
Although an hour had passed, he did not speak a word. His distance from the group was slowly growing, but he did not mutate his velocity facing this predicament. Two hours later, when he reached the front of the dwelling where he settled yesterday, he halted, turned around, and looked at the path as if he resurrected a memory.
