"The jackal-wolf folk and kobolds I first brought to the Molten Iron Tribe have all perished."
Seeing Hodgson's death, Iron Dragon Solrog also felt somewhat wistful.
"These creatures are truly insignificant and fragile... In our long lives, our followers will iterate again and again, new replacing the old, the cycle of life and death, with only the same sun rising and setting, unchanging throughout the ages."
Galos gazed towards the sun, radiating light and heat.
He shook his head and slowly spoke, "Even stars have a day when their light extinguishes, their energy burns out, turning into cosmic dust, not unchanging throughout the ages."
The voice paused for a moment.
The pupils of the Red Iron Dragon narrowed slightly, and in a deep voice, he said, "Only those Divine Spirits worshipped and revered by countless souls, or powerful beings whose strength rivals the gods, can truly be eternal, ignoring the passage of time, and existing immortally."
Galos asked himself.
