It was a barren, scorched wasteland. The stench of blood filled the air, and the sky, unlike its usual color, was blood-red.
Every flower and plant had been burned to ash, and darkness seemed to have consumed everything.
In the middle of this desolate field, there were two gravestones. In front of them, a handsome middle-aged man sat cross-legged.
His eyes were closed, but his presence radiated rage, as if even the wind didn't dare disturb him.
A sword lay before him, as though he was paying his respects to the two gravestones.
Suddenly, the space behind him shattered like glass, collapsing as a figure emerged from it.
"It's been a long time, Kaelos," Schneitz stepped forward, coming to stand beside him. He glanced at the gravestones and sighed.
"My condolences for losing your son."
However, the man he was speaking to gave no reply. A suffocating silence filled the air.
