August 16, 1669, the sun is shining.
"With this weather, it would be great to go to the beach."
In the crowded entrance square, Ash tugged at his collar and sighed, "I feel like I'm about to melt like ice cream."
"Pineapple-flavored ice cream?" Weiser chuckled lightly. She was wearing a dress and holding a silver lace-trimmed umbrella, exuding a strong summer vibe.
