After the conspiracy between the mortal kings and the gods came to an end, those towering figures, just as they had arrived, walked one after another into the darkness at the edge of the wasteland. The shifting, roiling chaos mist was like a boundless sea of darkness, and beyond that sea lay the realm of the gods—Gawain watched their immense backs as though he were watching prisoners slowly return to their cages.
The chains binding those prisoners had already been removed, yet for the world to cast off its own chains as well, they still needed to endure within their cages for a while longer. But the good news was that the day of final liberation was drawing near. Twilight of the Gods had already raised its curtain, and Mortal Dawn would arrive before long.
The gods departed one after another, and the vast gathering ground soon became deserted. Only Bofar, the God of Commerce, remained until the very end. He seemed ready to rise and leave as well, but before departing, he suddenly stopped and turned toward Gawain.
Gawain looked at the giant-like middle-aged deity draped in long robes and asked curiously, "Is there something else?"
"I want to ask you about a few things," Bofar said frankly. Then, in two strides, he came before Gawain, casually sat cross-legged on the ground, and set the large book he had been carrying on a nearby rock. The utterly undignified gesture did not resemble that of a god in the slightest, yet it was also especially godlike. "These things have troubled me for a long time."
The heavy book landed on the rock with a thud, and when the giant-like deity sat down, the ground shook. Gawain felt himself jolt along with it before his gaze fell upon the book's cover.