December 9, 1928.
It had been more than half a month since Gilan had settled on an isolated island in the Blood Sea.
With winter's arrival, the temperature had dropped rapidly, and the weather had turned cold. The island's once-lush vegetation had withered away in barely twenty days, leaving behind a barren wasteland.
Snow drifted down from the hazy heavens, draping the originally black island in silver-white finery, as though heaven and earth had been washed clean.
On the southern cliffs of the island stood a natural cave. It was not large, but roughly the size of an ordinary apartment's living room, extending nearly ten meters inward and standing three or four meters high.
A fire burned within it.
A young girl in a white dress, her hair braided and coiled up, sat cross-legged beside the campfire. A metal kettle rested over the flames, its tea boiling and giving off thick steam with a bubbling gurgle.
The girl hugged her knees, resting her chin upon them as she stared blankly into the fire.
Tap.
A faint sound suddenly came from the cave entrance.
A young man in a black formal suit and a bowler hat walked in slowly.
"You're back. How was the haul this time?"
As the young man approached, the girl raised her head, revealing a sweet smile as she asked softly.
Her voice echoed through the cave, airy and ethereal.
"Not bad. The Nightmare Steles within ten kilometers of here have basically all been cleared out."
Gilan took off his hat and smiled.
Looking at the girl curled up beside the fire with her knees hugged close, he could not help asking:
"Tolina, are you cold?"
"No." The girl slowly shook her head. "It's just that, looking at the icy, snow-covered scenery outside, I always feel more