He had always thought that was a glory unique to that era, proof that the Divine Spirits favored this land.
But now he suddenly understood—it wasn't glory, it was the price.
However strong the invaders were, that's how strong our ancestors had to be. And the strength of our ancestors only served to show just how strong the invaders were.
"Doesn't that mean the invaders three thousand years ago were incredibly strong?" His voice was hoarse. "What about three thousand years later? The invaders are said to be the same Wizards. Is this why we can't win...?"
"Afraid?"
The High Priest's voice rang out.
Leander said, "I'm not afraid. If I were, my bloodline power wouldn't be growing stronger."
He paused, his chest heaving a few times. "But I am still afraid—afraid that we won't find a way to defeat the invaders and bring peace to our world."
The High Priest chuckled. "That is why I brought you here. To eliminate this lingering threat."
The two of them moved as they spoke.
