A maelstrom whirled in the sky.
From the crimson of the dawn horizon to the still-dark summit of the sky.
The flow of atmosphere spiraled, ripping apart dark clouds.
Like a drill piercing through something. Like a saw slicing through something.
Just above the sanctuary, it rocked the surface of the lake below.
The jet-black wolves stationed at the lake’s edge finally rose and lowered their heads, ready to fight.
Foam bubbled on the quiet surface of the lake, taking in the sand floating above it and sinking it below.
A woman hovered above the lake. Her hair fluttered down around her.
Maybe she was confused about why she’d slipped through the barrier sooner than she’d planned.
She might have been suspicious about why a barrier she had been trying to get through for hundreds of years had suddenly vanished.
Her brain, both that of a god and yet not, decided to open her eyes wide before contemplating that.
The beasts howled. A long howl.
The wolves all rose and answered their companions’ cries.
The song of their howls resounded far into the distance before the now-freed goddess. All at the same time...
At the dawn of Kiesalhima’s final day.
The jet-black forest wolves kicked off from the lake’s edge and charged the goddess.
As if to drown the dawn in the hue of a second midnight.
At the same time, far away...
On the plains stretching from the Imminent Domain to the sanctuary.
The scars of battle still remained. The bodies piled up there were gradually being covered by the ever-blowing sands.
The scorched tents still remained. And from the ground...
Crack.
A hand sprung from one of the scorch marks underneath a tent.
It scrambled around a bit and eventually a torso pulled itself free of the dirt. And not just one. Two torsos.
“Man, thought we were dead there, Dortin.”
“...Well, maybe I shouldn’t say this after almost dying, but this might just be what living is,” Dortin muttered, hacking up some sand.
The two who were stronger than anyone else were, of course, still alive.