At the enormous desk, a great glob of water dripped down onto Monster Wolf's head.
It was the giant Wizard's tear, but there was only one drop, perhaps because he was a Cyclops. No more followed, as though that moment had been an illusion. Yet the drop shattered into countless smaller beads against the wolf's head, the smallest still resting on its fur, making it all so real.
"There aren't many Wizards among the Cyclopes, but there must still be over a thousand, right?" the middle-aged Wizard asked.
"Hahaha, that was a very, very long time ago. Three hundred years ago, there were already only seven hundred and eleven left," the giant at the desk said with a laugh, without turning around. "They've agreed as well. Some will try to bring about change in their own ways. If they fail, they'll terminate their own Mental Power Spaces, just like the others. The children of our race stopped practicing and being taught meditation methods several years ago-"
The giant kept busy with the work in his hands as he spoke, leaving out no detail, as though pouring his heart out to an old friend was a great comfort in itself.
The middle-aged Wizard trembled, but merely stood between the enormous study door and the desk, listening in silence.
Monster Wolf seemed to sense the change in its master's emotions. It raised its neck slightly and tilted its head in confusion.
In his friend's presence, the giant went from chatting intermittently to rambling on and on. He spoke for a long time before finally stopping.
Snap! The book in the giant's hands happened to close at that very moment.
"Thank you, my old friend. Thank you for coming," the giant said softly.
The study fell silent.
The absolute silence lasted quite some