"Did Green send you?"
As though he had long been prepared for this, Thanksgiving's avatar asked calmly. Dreams were too beautiful, reality too cruel; in the end, ideals had fallen beneath the greed of human nature.
"What do you think?"
Blood Rain's avatar wore a bronze ghost-face mask. Though his expression could not be seen, one could still imagine that cold, disdainful look. He said gloomily, "At the beginning of man, his nature is evil. You are merely a fragment of Green's dream-memory, existing for the span of a single thought. The mistakes here cannot entirely be blamed on you. What drives human nature has always been desire and punishment. Compromise will only let desire swell without end!"
"Did Green ask you to convey those words as well?"
The Wizard's Will gathered upon Thanksgiving's avatar was slowly dissipating, and its influence over the heart of the Space Fortress was steadily weakening. This was the Demon-Hunting Wizard Legion, jointly controlled by numerous Dawn Wisdom wizards, breaking free from Thanksgiving's Rule. It had essentially severed this Fifteen-Ring True Spirit Wizard's possibility of using the Demon-Hunting Expedition to elevate the prestige of his Wizard's Will to greater heights.
"No. That is my personal gift to you. Heh heh."
The bronze mask seemed to possess some extraordinary ability. Something that could be worn upon the face of an avatar of the Wizard King could not possibly be ordinary, and Thanksgiving's avatar had noticed that as well.
The blood rain in the sky had gradually ceased, and the chaotic rules that had churned like storm clouds were slowly returning to calm.
Within this modern wizard command center guarded by more than a hundred Light Spirit Fortresses, Blood Rain's avatar gazed through the AT Force Field shield beyond the crystal glass, looking out over this world