"One day," Beth replied firmly, "Her Highness the Princess will do it, no longer relying on those rotten northern nobles."
Really? Frey couldn't help but recall what Brand had once told her, but aren't the Royalists also nobles? Can those nobles truly understand such pain? The more she understood, the darker and more profound history appeared before her eyes, like a giant mouth trying to swallow her. But then she remembered the resolute eyes amidst the sea of fire in Buqi, why was Brand always so confident?
The mist that made everyone uncertain seemed nonexistent before his eyes, had he already seen the other end of history, the inevitable end?
The young girl stood in a trance.
...
The battlefield of Bunoan was like the scorched bottom of a pot, on the charred ground stood some poles, some of which still bore tattered flags. Scattered around were the remnants of armor heated to boiling, amidst incomplete human bodies, hands, feet, or other parts.
