Meanwhile, deep within Wind Island.
A young man holding a harp sat upon a throne woven from clouds, plucking the strings from time to time and producing pleasant notes.
At first glance, the man seemed to be enjoying a leisurely pastime. Yet upon closer inspection, it became clear that the man seated on the cloud throne was far from relaxed. His brows were tightly furrowed, as though ten thousand worries weighed upon his heart.
Suddenly, the young man's elf-like pointed ears twitched. He stopped plucking the strings with his index finger, raised his head, and looked toward the cloud-shrouded doorway.
A gentle breeze drifted in, rippling the clouds before slowly forming a faint, indistinct silhouette beneath the throne.
"Teacher Camus, have you come to ask what decision I should make?" The young man's voice was crisp and melodious, as pleasing as the notes of his harp.
Before Camus could reply, he continued on his own, "It's hard for me to decide. No matter what, they were born in the wind, just like us..."
Camus said, "Your Highness Soft Breeze, you must understand that they were not born in White Cloud Township, and they are now our enemies."
The young man was Gentle Wind Uranus. It was as though he had not heard Camus at all. Still immersed in his own thoughts, he murmured softly, "I never expected little Xiubolio to truly carry out that original oath—to unite all wind-element creatures. Sigh, when I rejected his proposal back then, he must have been terribly disappointed, or he would not have left. I still remember when he was born. He was so tiny, so adorable, and he clung to me every day... In the blink of an eye, he has become capable of standing on his own. I am truly happy for