Cheers and laughter, peace and tranquility.
Wizard Zorn sat cross-legged at a street corner, directly on the ground. As a strange traveler, he seemed to possess a peculiar charm. A great flock of chattering fairies had gathered around him—some taller and bulkier even than Mahama, others no bigger than an ordinary person's thumb. They surrounded Zorn and laughed with him, while one fairy barely taller than a wine jug constantly fluttered its wings as it lifted the jug to pour him more wine.
The finale of the shattering was no longer spreading from a single direction toward the royal city's center. It was gradually becoming irregular.
Every so often, one of the strange, shadowy drinking companions around Zorn vanished. This time, however, it was not because Zorn had stuffed them into his chest hair.
Ruger sat by the window, watching the street corner diagonally across from him.
Before he knew it, Zorn was the only one left sitting cross-legged there, still holding up a large wine cup that had just been filled halfway. Clear emerald-green wine swayed within it.
Zorn lowered his raised hand and tipped back his head, drinking the half cup dry.
Ruger raised an eyebrow at the sight.
He could see only Wizard Zorn's profile, yet he still found the wizard's expression somewhat unexpected.
This great wizard seemed a little sad, but the moment that thought arose, Ruger dismissed it.
More accurately, he seemed a little lonely.
Yet Ruger soon shook his head again. Even that initial sense of loneliness did not seem quite right.
It was more like a wistful sigh stirred by the moment.
Ruger blinked. As for what thoughts had drifted through Zorn's mind, and what exactly he was sighing over, that was beyond Ruger's ability to discern.
They were already very close to