In a forest a few kilometers away from the Whale Manor, Asher stood with calm ease at the center of a wide area. His cape fluttered gently in the wind, swaying in slow, deliberate motions, while his expression remained completely unchanged, serene to the point of indifference. His posture was relaxed, almost casual, as though he were not standing before a spar at all, but merely observing a tranquil landscape.
Surrounding him were Finch, who held his black chain loosely in one hand, William, who had already drawn his silver claymore and rested it against his shoulder, both of them wearing expressionless gazes devoid of hesitation or doubt. Caldor stood with his spear firmly gripped, its tip angled forward, while his sister, Annabelle, held her twin daggers tightly. Unlike the others, Caldor and Annabelle wore determined expressions, their eyes sharp and focused, as though they were about to face something truly calamitous rather than a simple spar.
