Perhaps in response to Ronan's appraisal, the Martial Emperor only strolled out from the depths of the dust cloud a moment later. She still held a book scroll in one hand, fanning it before herself to sweep away the spiraling dust that clung to her without end, looking somewhat disgusted.
"Linen clothing picks up dust easily enough as it is, but you just had to mix all sorts of junk into it."
"Ah, sorry." Ronan replied aloud, though his thoughts drifted. At a time like this, it was hard for him not to overthink things.
What had the Martial Emperor learned this time?
As for the dusting, taking it seriously would mean losing. Were those flat, soft slippers dragging beneath the Martial Emperor's feet not even less suited for walking across these uneven, loose ruins? Yet after all this way, not a speck of mud or dust had touched them.
Ronan's gaze swept over the Martial Emperor's spotless feet before turning back toward the core depression.
"You did the first, and others did the fifteenth. Fair enough." The Martial Emperor came to stand beside Ronan. Her tall figure was nearly a head taller than his.
Still, the two of them bore something of a resemblance at the moment. Both were calm and unhurried, chatting as usual, each with a paper book in hand—though the Martial Emperor held a scroll, while Ronan held a Paged Notebook.
This time, the Martial Emperor gave the notebook in Ronan's hand several extra looks, seemingly quite interested.
Ronan asked, "The 'first' you mentioned refers to...?"
"Wasn't it the 'earthquake'? Oh, calling it a Heavenly Tremor works too."
The Martial Emperor spoke casually, then added her assessment. "Your train of thought really is far too erratic. Telling you about your Grandfather's circumstances was meant to make