"Mom… who is that man?" Dale asked quietly.
The room fell into a brief, heavy silence.
Francis instinctively stepped closer, his brows furrowing as he strained to catch every word.
They had already been back in White Bone City for weeks, yet the memory of that day remained as vivid as ever.
The image of that lone figure standing amid mountains of corpses, the sky dyed red with blood and fire, refused to fade.
Thousands had died in mere moments.
Such a scene carved itself into the soul, impossible to forget no matter how much time passed.
Evelyn did not answer right away.
Her gaze drifted toward the window, toward the distant city walls and the quiet streets beyond.
When she finally spoke, her voice was gentle, but there was an unmistakable weight beneath it.
"It's still too early for you to know about him, my son," she said softly.
"Rest now. You will have many chances to understand him in the future."
