Wind swept across the silver dunes, sending fine grains of sand swirling into the air.
In the sky, the clouds were gradually gathering again. Brando seemed to remember something. He handed the weakened Adviser Miss to Freya and said, "Wait for me."
Freya silently nodded.
Brando turned and walked across the sand to Male Sorcerer Sader. This once-renowned Wizard Leader was now disheveled, utterly lacking his former dignity. He hunched over with his head bowed, staring blankly at the sand until Brando's boots appeared in his field of vision.
Only then did he shakily raise his head and stare fixedly at the young lord. He split his lips into a smile that was neither quite a laugh nor a smile, his voice hoarse. "You must be very pleased, human."
Brando looked into the man's murky eyes. Blood vessels filled the area around his silver pupils, making him resemble an old, dying beast. He could not even feel anger anymore and merely answered lightly, "This was the Sasar people's choice. Does the taste of betrayal suit you?"
Male Sorcerer Sader's throat gave a rattling sound, and he laughed coldly. "So what? You aren't an ordinary human either."
Brando looked at him, unable to keep a trace of pity from showing in his eyes.
"Don't you understand? If we believe we are, then we are one of the majority on this land." He spoke calmly. "Because there has never been anything extraordinary in this world. Even Lady Martha never believed she could stand above everyone else. The truly pitiful are those who cut themselves off from humanity."
"Sader, there has never been anyone born noble in this world, and bloodlines cannot become a barrier between people. What Lady Martha gave you was not power, but responsibility. Unfortunately, you never understood—"
He slowly