God's Island, Upper Yard.
In a dense forest, two groups faced off against each other. They stood roughly twenty meters apart, with over three hundred people on each side, evenly matched in strength.
They shared one common trait: each had a pair of white wings on their backs, making them look exactly like the angels of legend.
But...
Those wings were merely decorations and had no ability to fly!
They wore white wings purely because of cultural custom...
Back to the matter at hand: one side consisted of Sky Island priests, while the other was the Shandia Tribe's guerrilla force.
Leading the priests was a white-haired middle-aged man: Gan Fall, the God of Sky Island.
Though only fifty-two this year, he had worried himself gray trying to mediate the hatred and conflict between Sky Island's natives and the Shandia Tribe.
Dressed in a suit of knight's armor, holding a lance, and riding atop a Pegasus, Gan Fall frowned as he spoke.
"Shandia warriors, why can't we put aside the hatred between us?"
Leading the guerrilla force was a young man with a bare upper body, gray leather trousers, a burning cannon in hand, war paint on his face, and waist-length red hair. His name was Ziegel, a descendant of the great warrior Calgara from four hundred years ago!
His greatest wish was for the Shandia Tribe to return to their homeland, relight the fires of Shandora, ring the Golden Bell, clear the name of Noland—the dear friend of the great warrior Calgara—and tell the people of the Blue Sea... Shandora still existed here!
Gan Fall's words struck Ziegel as utterly ridiculous. These Sky Islanders had not only occupied the land of their homeland, but had also driven them into the sea of clouds beneath Sky Island to survive. And now