Looking around, aside from two members of the Seven Deadly Sins who were kneeling with bowed heads nearby, there was nothing but the seemingly endless charred wasteland extending to the edge of the world.
The charred wasteland—having endured temperatures in the tens of thousands of degrees, rocks and earth melted then shaped by the Storm's gusts into a landscape dotted with smooth, black obsidian. No life existed here, nor would any life ever emerge from this barren land. It would remain desolate until, after hundreds or thousands of years covered by fresh soil or desert sands, tenacious life finally took root in new ground.
At this moment, there were only three visitors casting long shadows under the blood-red sunrise.
"Castling..."
Once again assuming the visage with black hair and red eyes, he turned to the side with an almost zero-degree gaze towards a spherical object in the distance.
