The Dance of the Past III

What was going on? Whose memory was this? Brando's memories of Eluin's royal capital were anything but vivid. In his memories, the capital's luxurious palaces burned fiercely in flames, the city collapsed, and all life was swallowed by a sea of fire.

Even now, he could still recall the wails and screams that had lingered in his ears back then.

But not this cheerful rhythm.

Brando glanced at the Little Prince beside him. This must be Haruze's memory. Princess Griffine and her younger brother had lived in Munsterlos for quite a long time according to history, so he should have been familiar with the place. Perhaps this was some summer celebration from his memories.

Brando looked up and saw the Lyra Constellation in the southern sky, confirming that this was a summer night.

What puzzled him, however, was how the Little Prince's memory had become connected to the Nameless One's memory. How had the assassination scene in that collapsing dream become linked to such a cheerful dream?

Without revealing anything, Brando continued forward. Quite a few people had gathered along the avenue. They were all sorts of people, but most of them paid no attention to Brando and the Little Prince. That was perfectly normal. Everyone's memories were vague when it came to details. These people existed within the memory, but they had only flashed past. The dreamer might not even have remembered what each of them looked like.

He led Haruze through the crowd, observing the details of the festival along the way. Just then, a carriage emerged from the darkness in the distance. It was a pitch-black nobleman's four-wheeled carriage that glided along like a Ghost. When Brando saw the crest on its side, his eyes narrowed involuntarily.

"Teacher, that's Viscount Begning—" The Little Prince recognized it as