Fine spring rain sprinkled onto the verdant land, the sky like a gauzy veil pricked with silver needles, billowing back and forth in the undulating spring breeze.
After March began, the warm currents of the Jade Sea clashed with the cold currents of the Furnace Highlands in the Thousand River Valley.
The cold and majestic water vapor, smoothed by the essence of spring, turned into a fine rain that fell onto the military tents of the war monks.
The Legion Commander, along with ten Brigade Commanders and the Military Chaplains, gathered in a tent to listen to the legion secretary recite the latest Gospel of the Holy Path.
"...War monks are also monks, the Salvation Army is the army of monks, and similarly, the Pope Country is a nation of monks..."
"...What is a monk? Is sitting in a monastery, reading scriptures daily considered being a monk? Without labor, there is no production; without exchange, there is no circulation; this certainly doesn't count as being a monk..."
