"The domain of wind is a hall of silent sound, a boundary of distance, invisible strings that sense the veins of the world..."
"As long as you merge with the wind, you will hear the whispers it brings you..."
"Hmph. But how could a lowly human like you understand the grace of the wind?"
As Angel stood at the center of countless rings of air, dodging the impact of myriad weather phenomena and feeling the storm's howl, Fafnir's voice suddenly rang out in his mind.
Dust-sealed memories had their seals of time wiped away—
Returning him to the days when he ran a shop in Lasudelan.
As a wind-element Abyss Dragon, Fafnir always maintained a wind Domain Field around himself. By Fafnir's side, Angel had constantly been able to sense the flow of the wind.
From initial indifference, to delighted exploration, to Fafnir's merciless blows—this had been Angel's first encounter with the power of high-level wind, and also his deepest understanding of it.
Fafnir had always used words of utter coldness to dismiss Angel's comprehension of the true essence of wind as worthless.
Angel himself indeed had no great talent for the power of wind, so he had only given it a cursory look. In the end, his research into wind had petered out without result.
Although, before Lasudelan fell, Fafnir had once said: as a human, you barely qualify to study wind.
But Angel was not a wind-element wizard. His own study of illusion arts was not particularly refined either, and he had neither the time nor energy to conduct cross-disciplinary research. So it had remained shelved until now.
Angel had thought Fafnir's words back then had merely been a parting kindness. Yet at this moment, truly surrounded by countless raging winds, he suddenly gained a deeper understanding of