Camille held the sword in his arms and looked up at the sky.
Fifty thousand years ago, when he had still been a young man, he had stood in this very posture.
Fifty thousand years later, now that he was about to die, he was still in this same posture.
The wind howled, lifting Camille's white hair and stirring up the withered leaves on the ground.
The leaves spun into the air, then drifted back down again.
Camille let out a sigh.
For all these years, he had been like a lion, standing firmly against a pack of wolves.
But he had never imagined that the race behind him would be raised into sheep by his protection.
Now, the sheep blamed the lion for blocking their path.
And the lion was old.
He was about to die.
If the destruction of the Luminari could not be avoided, then perhaps death would be a blessing for him after all.
At the very least, he would not have to witness that heart-wrenching scene with his own eyes!
…
Divine Wind Calendar, Year 6490.
