The sky was filled with gloomy colors, without the faintest hint of so-called blue. The clouds moved slowly, and the sound of waves striking the reefs remained clear.
Lion El'Jonson gazed at the horizon not far away, watching the rising and falling waves and the white foam. Naturally, the corpses bobbing among them also caught his attention.
They were not bloated, nor were they pale. Wrapped in seawater, they looked as though they had merely fallen asleep. Lion dragged his fingers across the ground; the rough feel of sand and stone was very real. He narrowed his eyes, tasted the salty tang of the sea wind, then sighed.
His father remained silent, but that was not the main reason. His sigh was not merely for that alone.
"Where is this?" Lion asked.
Even when he sat down, he did not look relaxed. His muscles were still tense. Now he was staring endlessly at his own hands. That unfamiliar old age had spread here as well. He could still wield a sword as he had before, yet he could always see this aged skin.
These were not his hands—at least, not the hands he remembered. To be honest, it did not feel good. He felt as though he were trapped inside an aged body. His strength still existed, but he needed something to help him break free.
He needed help.
"Somewhere in my memory," The Emperor of Mankind answered. He remained standing, his face much younger than his son's showing little emotional fluctuation. The only hint could be glimpsed in those tightly pressed lips.
"Where?" Lion repeated. "I want a precise name, Father, not some vague word like somewhere."
".Black Sand Beach."
The Emperor of Mankind uttered a place name that was utterly unfamiliar to Lion El'Jonson. Then he began to