Odephys, Blade of Flames, hung high above the hall of Fusha Sanctuary. The believers inside the hall, along with Yolfor, even saw a phantom emerge behind the Sacred Sword. The phantom held the Sacred Sword in one hand and wore a long dragonflame cloak, its back turned to everyone.
A powerful emotion suddenly surged uncontrollably through Yolfor's heart. It was as if he had glimpsed the magnificent age of the past, yet the sages and heroes of old were turning away from them, fading into the distance. The beliefs and aspirations of his youth, his worship of heroes, and his unwavering faith in the Temple of Flames all came flooding back, as though a voice were flowing through his heart. After decades of aging and careful preservation, it was bitter and filled with regret. Yolfor's legs went weak, and he fell straight to his knees. As soon as he knelt, the many low-ranking priests behind him knelt one after another as well.
The two academy masters also knelt. Before Gilt, King of Flames and king of the Cruzian People, they were drenched in cold sweat and could not utter a word.
"We once made a sacred covenant. What was our covenant? A thousand years ago, we defeated the Dark Dragon and liberated Vonder from tyranny. We were not saviors; we merely pursued freedom. Yet a thousand years later, the empire of the Min'er People no longer exists in this world. Do we still have the right to call ourselves a glorious people?"
Gilt, King of Flames's phantom remained silent in midair. Yet for these loyal believers of the Temple of Flames, the condemnation resounded in their hearts. Only those who had truly abandoned their faith could remain unmoved.
Far away, in the sacred palace of Fanzan, a tall and imposing