Rustle...

  In the nearby grass, a slender, pitch-black silhouette stood under the silvery-white moonlight without any warning. Before Chris could even make a move to draw his sword, a dazzling, circular golden array flared up violently beneath his feet. An incredibly formidable barrier instantly pinned him dead to the spot, rendering him completely immobilized.

  "You, you bastard... Cough!" Chris was ruthlessly crushed to the ground by a mountain-crushing gravity. The air in his lungs was almost entirely squeezed out, leaving him suffocating in agony.

  "Quiet down, Chris." A low, magnetic voice drifted from the shadow. Gritting his teeth, Chris lifted his head with great effort. He saw that the man possessed pitch-black, long hair that danced wildly in the wind like deep-sea kelp. The icy moonlight spilled across his face, casting his deep, chiseled features in flickering light and shadow.

  "Lord... Lord Shumanton..." After confirming that familiar, suffocatingly powerful magic, a few physiological tears slipped from the corners of Chris's eyes due to extreme pain and shock.

  Shumanton's expression remained detached as he lightly waved his wide, pure-black sleeve. In an instant, the tyrannical barrier dissolved into a sky full of golden dust and scattered to the wind.

  Regaining his freedom, Chris greedily gasped for air, his body still trembling uncontrollably as he knelt miserably in the wind-tossed sea of grass.

  Shumanton took a step forward, slowly walking toward Chris. At the same time, an eerie, pitch-black thorn broke through the earth by his foot, darting swiftly through the soil like a slithering snake, shooting straight for Chris.

  Seeing this, Chris reached out his right hand without hesitation, grabbing the black thorn in a death grip.

  "Hiss—!" A burst of scorching white smoke instantly billowed from Chris's palm. His features contorted in agony, but he quickly forced the pain down, allowing his breathing to return to a steady calm.

  "Lord Shumanton, I am here." Chris let go of the thorn. Because he was enduring such intense pain, his azure eyes had grown somewhat dim and murky.

  Shumanton stopped right in front of Chris. The shadow cast by his tall frame completely enveloped the kneeling Chris, robbing his long, pure-white braid of the moonlight's touch.

  "Chris, you..." Shumanton's voice was deep, heavy, and steeped in a profound sense of exhaustion.

  Chris looked up, and the moment his eyes met the other man's face, his heart fiercely clenched. Those were a pair of indifferent, lightless eyes. The pupils, once brimming with absolute authority, were now a cloudy, misty gray, staring hollowly into the void. It seemed Silvan was right—this once-invincible War God had truly gone blind.

  "Lord Shumanton, what are your orders?" Chris forcibly averted his gaze. He didn't dare look at Shumanton's eyes anymore; that appearance of having lost all vitality brought an indescribable, stifling ache to his chest.

  To his surprise, Shumanton directly crossed his legs and sat down on the grass right in front of him.

  "Chris, how old are you this year?"

  "Thirty, Lord Shumanton."

  "Oh... is that so." Shumanton tilted his head back slightly, a trace of an ethereal sigh in his tone. "To think, I have slumbered for another three years."

  "Lord Shumanton." Chris's gaze suddenly sharpened, a nameless fire churning wildly in his chest. "Why are you hiding inside the body of 'Lune,' this human barrier? You're acting just like... a cowardly mouse!"

  Chris glared fixedly at Shumanton. But Shumanton merely faced the broken moon in the sky with his blind, misty-gray eyes, falling into a long silence.

  "I'm sorry, Chris. The Solar-ore... I failed to seal it in the end." A bitter curve hooked the corner of Shumanton's lips.

  "Seventeen years ago, the ancient god of seals formed a contract with me, demanding I use 'my own time' in exchange to accelerate the flow of time in this world. God promised that as long as I slumbered for twenty years, the violent power of the Solar-ore would drain completely away. Three years ago, when I briefly awoke, I was still secretly hoping in my heart... hoping the magical particles in the air of this world would become pure once again, hoping those high and mighty gods... would no longer forcefully descend upon the earth."

  (This guy is beating around the bush again!) Relying on the fact that Shumanton couldn't see, Chris rolled his eyes without an ounce of politeness and directly interrupted his sentimentality. "Lord Shumanton, that's called avoiding the question. What I just asked was..."

  "You were just asking me, 'why are you hiding inside Lune's body like a cowardly mouse,' right? I heard you, Chris."

  Shumanton suddenly let out a laugh. In the next second, a black sword radiating an eerie chill materialized out of thin air before him, giving Chris a full-body jolt.

  "Three years ago, in order to successfully 'go back to sleep,' I simply sealed away some of my heavier memories. After all, those memories were far too disruptive to a good dream; they nearly caused me to wake up early several times." Shumanton elegantly pulled a pure white handkerchief from his breast pocket and began slowly, methodically wiping the gleaming black blade.

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  "Listen well, Chris. Lune isn't some 'human barrier.' He... is my personality from when I was fifteen."

  Shumanton's tone became somewhat ethereal. "Sorry, I lied to Silvan. I just didn't want that guy blindly worrying over me anymore. The truth is, every time I seal away a portion of the memories belonging to 'Shumanton,' the personality known as 'Lune' becomes more distinct, more powerful. As things stand, I can no longer suppress him. I can only take advantage of when he falls into a deep sleep due to magic overdraft to—just like right now... sneak out for a breath of fresh air."

  "By the way, your metaphor just now was incredibly incisive, Chris!" Shumanton actually laughed heartily, a sense of letting-go and relief permeating his laughter. "Right now, I really am just like a mouse hiding in Lune's body! To be honest, it makes me feel an unprecedented ease. Who knows, maybe before long I'll just fade away entirely? If that happens... I wonder if it counts as fulfilling my pact with the ancient god of seals?"

  Shumanton's smile was so relaxed, so gentle. The silvery-white moonlight cascaded over his deep black hair that undulated in the wind, plating him in a soft halo of light. In Chris's memories, this man crowned with the title of "War God" had always carried a heavy pressure on his shoulders capable of crushing mountains. In contrast to the weak yet serene man before his eyes, who seemed to have laid down all his burdens... Chris unexpectedly birthed a selfish thought for a split second:

  (Maybe... letting him continue to be that mouse wouldn't be such a bad thing after all, right?)

  "Lord Shumanton, I retract my previous statement. Your brain has definitely developed some psychological issues." Chris forcibly suppressed the sour ache in his heart, swapping to a tone of utter disgust as he said, "I think you should just team up with that old hag Silvan and go register at a clinic in the city! As soon as the sun is up, I'll go look up exactly which department you're supposed to visit for this kind of melodramatic mental illness. Or... should I just go directly to the city tomorrow and kidnap a famous doctor? If he can't cure both of your brains, I'll slay him with one strike of my sword."

  "Chris, did you just say something terrifying? Who would have thought that the crybaby from back then would actually turn out so cruel now..." Shumanton teased with feigned shock.

  "Shut up, Lord Shumanton! Also, we need to cure your eyes while we're at it!" Chris pressed, gnashing his teeth. "What in the world is going on with your eyes? If you go back looking half-dead like this, that old hag will definitely burst into tears!"

  "Old hag? Are you referring to... Pu-Ying Fraschi?" Shumanton paused slightly, then revealed a somewhat nostalgic smile. "To be honest, the fact that she hasn't remarried these past seventeen years is genuinely quite surprising to me."

  "Lord Shumanton, you're changing the subject again! You're an incurable sly old fox." Chris punctured his deflection without mercy. "Answer me quickly, when exactly will your eyes return to normal?"

  "Chris, your temper is as hasty as ever." Shumanton sighed softly, his hollow gray eyes seeming to veil under an even deeper mist. "After all, for the existence known as 'Shumanton,' the sense least needed right now is sight. Therefore, this power was naturally taken away by Lune. The longer Lune stays awake, the faster my power and consciousness will disappear. Once I lose all my senses, my connection with this world will thoroughly shallow out... Finally, I will completely decay into a pile of fragmented memories, slumbering forever in the depths of Lune's mind."

  A trace of relieved tenderness actually seeped into Shumanton's tone. "By that time, that child will be able to have a complete, ordinary life. He will no longer be bound by the destiny of the 'War God,' nor will he be influenced by me ever again."

  "Hmph, you make it sound so nice! This is fundamentally just a perfect script used to escape life, Lord Shumanton! Just when did you turn into such a cowardly—" Before Chris could finish his furious roar, a sudden change occurred.

  "Oh! Lord Shumanton?!"

  Suddenly, Shumanton's foggy gray, hollow eyes shed their cloudiness without warning, blooming anew with a clear, pure amber radiance. Immediately following, the solemn, pitch-black military uniform on his body fractured and fluttered down piece by piece like weathered fallen leaves. His tall, mature skeleton emitted a subtle noise, his body shrinking at a speed visible to the naked eye. That deep-sea pitch-black long hair was also instantly replaced by brilliant, sun-like blonde hair. In merely the blink of an eye, he had reverted back into the form of the fifteen-year-old boy, "Lune."

  "Waaaah—! I slept, and suddenly I feel so refreshed! Uncle Chris!" Lune sat full of energy in the spot that originally belonged to Shumanton, supporting himself with hands on the grass, curiously observing the Chris in front of him with those radiant, completely unclouded, bright big eyes.

  Looking at the innocent and naive boy before his eyes, and recalling the murmurs Shumanton had just delivered like final words... Chris's nose stung fiercely. Those azure eyes that always oozed untamed defiance unexpectedly flashed with an irrepressible vulnerability and sorrow for a split second.

  The long, dark night finally ushered in its end. The sparse stars were gradually wiped away by the first light of dawn emerging in the east; the morning's chill mist turned into crystal-clear dewdrops, quietly dampening the vibrant green grass.

  "Uncle Chris? Why aren't you saying anything?" Lune tilted his head, leaning in a little closer with concern. "Your eyes look like they've caught some morning dew. Speaking of which... why are we sitting out here in the middle of the night?"

  Chris stood up in silence. A streak of extremely profound darkness swept through his eyes. In an instant, all the vulnerability on his person was replaced by an icy, bone-piercing killing intent.

  Zinng—! Chris's hand abruptly drew the light-sword from his waist. The sharp tip of the blade instantly erupted with scorching, berserk golden light, accompanied by a spine-chilling, high-frequency hum, pointing straight at Lune sitting on the ground.

  "Silvan got tricked by that old liar, Shumanton. That guy actually lied, saying you were nothing but a 'human barrier' he casually fabricated because he was in a bad mood!" Chris gripped the hilt in a death lock, veins bulging on the back of his hand. He glared down at Lune, a towering rage and unwillingness burning in his eyes.

  "You little brat... what right do you have to steal Lord Shumanton's body?!" Chris's murderous expression of wrath terrified Lune into a full-body tremble. Yet, amidst his fear, Lune's clear intuition still keenly captured a trace of something unusually amiss.

  "Uncle Chris..." Fighting back his fear, Lune stood up. Not only did he not run away, but he carefully reached out a hand, gently gripping Chris's faintly trembling shirt hem. He raised his head, using those amber eyes—so pure they resembled clear mirrors—to stare straight into Chris's anger-filled eyes.

  "Why... do you feel so sad?" The youth's tender voice quivered slightly in the morning breeze. "Tell me, why exactly... are you mad at me?"