"Krell is here! Everybody, run!"
A child pointed into the distance and shouted. The other children immediately dropped the clumps of mud in their hands and ran into the village.
In the blink of an eye, only crooked footprints and scattered clumps of mud remained on the muddy road.
A gust of wind swept up the dead leaves on the ground and brushed past the curled-up figure of the silver-haired girl.
She slowly raised her head, her violet eyes reflecting a tall figure walking toward her through the twilight.
Looking up at the young man in the distance, who was exactly like his younger self.
Krell raised his hand, ready to touch him, only to discover a barrier before him.
The next moment, time began to accelerate.
As an observer, Krell witnessed the young man's entire life.
Kneeling on one knee in a torrential downpour, he was granted a knighthood.
Beneath the oak tree in the village square, he swore his oath as lord.
When spring came in his twenty-second year, he placed a crown woven from wildflowers upon that silver-haired girl's head.
On a rainy night lit by flashes of thunder, their first child was born.
The years were like a windmill turning before a granary, carrying away wave after wave of wheat with each passing season.
Standing inside a wooden house and watching "Krell" tell his grandchildren stories of his past, light flickered in his eyes.
On a snowy winter night, the two, their hair white with age, still tightly held each other's wrinkled hands and peacefully fell asleep surrounded by their children and grandchildren.
The next moment, darkness swallowed everything before him.
Within a few breaths, the scene changed. Krell looked around and saw a magical city emerge before him.
"Italia, my mother asked me to invite