Within the Black Tower, a silence akin to death returned.
Only Hathaway remained, her golden hair flowing, standing alone in this desolate tower.
Time seemed to freeze into eternity, with only a small hourglass nearby, its grains of sand trickling away.
The eyes of the Golden Elf were utterly lifeless.
After a long while, a faint light finally flickered within them.
"You're truly willful, Teacher Shaar..."
The Golden Elf's voice remained cool and clear.
Yet it lacked the innocence of a young girl, instead bearing a hint of hoarseness and solitude.
"You plan everything your own way, arranging it all by yourself."
"You're always like this, should I call it arrogance or male chauvinism..."
"Feigning confidence and taking on everything upon yourself, leaving all risks and burdens to bear, while giving me an effortless, hazard-free shortcut."
She gently opened her mouth, feeling the indescribable grief slowly expand in her spiritual world, rippling like water.
