The feeling was indescribably strange.
Daniel knew perfectly well that the old man wasn't looking at him.
Yet it felt as though something invisible had pierced straight through his soul.
It was as if those ancient eyes had crossed the endless river of time itself, falling upon him from an unimaginably distant past...
"Prisoner... chess piece..."
The old man murmured softly.
At that moment, his body suddenly trembled.
Two figures separated from him, one to each side.
All three looked exactly alike.
The only differences lay in their robes and expressions.
The figure on the left wore a pure white mage's robe.
His expression was gentle, giving off the warmth of a spring breeze gliding across a tranquil lake.
The figure on the right was dressed entirely in black.
His face was cold and emotionless, while a ruthless gleam lingered deep within his eyes.
The old man turned toward the white-robed elder, his voice calm.
"I'm counting on you."
