Saint jumped on the neck of his lion, and it began to grow bigger with each step it took. Its head barely reached the roof, but after five steps, its shoulders towered over all the buildings in the town.
The sound of the train moving away from the station rang in Saint's ears. He turned, glancing at the long locomotive making its way away from the town, and a gentle smile appeared on his face.
'It's been a journey, Brave.' He caressed the lion's mane, and it growled softly, shaking its head as they made their way to the other side of the town where a massive army approached.
The cold gale blew fiercely, picking up dust and sand. The rooftops of some buildings in the town were blown off.
There were barely over a hundred people here. This place reeked of loneliness and poverty but… it was his home.
The home of Germany's past Kings.
