Light blazed in the darkness.
The Well of Darkness had exploded in a rushing flood, threatening to overtake all of them. It had all happened so fast, too fast, for Caleb to react, to enter Time-state and try to save the others.
But someone else had reacted in time. A brilliant light stood against the Darkness. And in the center of that blinding gleam was a single word, its letters blazing like the sun.
LIGHT.
Will stood behind those letters, pen Talisman held out to the side, the end of a flourish of the final letter.
“Will…” Caleb started, gaping.
“It won’t hold long,” Will said, turning away. “Let’s go.”
Caleb and Chelsea did a quick check. Everyone was accounted for. The Darkness hadn’t swallowed up anyone. Will had reacted just fast enough to save them all.
So they ran. Up the stairs, ushering Sieglinde and Hestia ahead of the rest of them, while Will, Caleb, and Chelsea took up the rear. They made sure to give Sieglinde and Hestia the best chance, because Sieglinde’s command of Yggdrasil was vital in the defense of Grimoire, and Hestia’s magical powers of inspiration were too valuable to risk losing.
Ideally, of course, they’d all get out of here alive.
The stairs seemed wider, and longer, than before, echoing what they’d seen of the chamber below — they could change their shape and size, at least subtly.
Because these stairs were part of the Well, too.
They hadn’t realized it until they were already down in the Well’s depths. Hopefully they could still escape.
If the Well could block off their exit… but no. That couldn’t be possible. Could it? And why would it? It wanted to escape, to swallow up the entire city.
If they escaped the Well, it would just keep following them. The Darkness at the heart of the world was done waiting.
Which, Caleb realized, could only mean one thing.
Sal. He’s decided the endgame is now.
Is he in Grimoire? Already?
Caleb, Chelsea, and all the rest of them — Will, Gwen, Anastasia, Sieglinde, Bronn, Stride, Hestia, Galahad, Artemis, Athena — had been sent down here to the Well because they were deemed the best Grimoire had to offer. But they were tired, sore, and hungry after uncounted hours — or perhaps even days — fighting the various waves of monsters the Well had spat up at them.
If the final battle was beginning now, what kind of shape were they in for it?
But… it was always going to be this way, wasn’t it?
With the way the Hollows and Darkness have been attacking Grimoire, constantly extending Hollow Hour, giving us less and less time to rest and recover, that was the plan all along, wasn’t it? Wear us down, wittle away at us bit by bit, until the final stroke falls on a Grimoire Guard that can’t properly guard their city.
What am I saying?
Caleb shook his head, running a bit faster, Chelsea matching pace beside him easily. Overhead, Chelsea’s owl flew, shining brightly, his white gleam a comforting light in the dark Well.
We’ve faced all kinds of crazy odds before. And I haven’t even pulled out my Time Magic, yet. I’ve got all sorts of tricks I haven’t shown off.
…And plenty of tricks I still haven’t practiced properly.
No help for that. It’s now or never!
He kept his wits about him, kept aware of the Darkness behind him. If it came upon them too fast, he wouldn’t fail to react this time.
I can get everyone out. If I need to. Best to hold that card close. Don’t go Phase Stepping unless you absolutely have to.
“It’s coming,” Will said. “I can try to stop it again, but…”
“Don’t,” Sieglinde said, just a beat ahead of Caleb, who’d been about to say the same thing. “We’re within Yggdrasil’s reach, now. And more than that, we’re in his reach.”
A rumbling, distant roar sounded, causing the stone walls to tremble around them.
“Nidhogg,” Caleb said, eyes wide, a smile coming to his lips. “He can hold back the Darkness?”
“He will try,” Sieglinde said. “Hurry. The closer we are to escape, the less dangerous it is for all of us. Including him.”
While Nidhogg roared in the distance, far below them came the terrifying sound of rushing water. Distant, but it was growing closer far too quickly, its vicious surging rumbling up the stairs, shaking the sturdy stone walls more than the dragon’s roars.
“Mightn’t we go a bit faster?” Galahad asked.
“It’s not our fault,” Anastasia said. “Sieglinde, do you need a lift?”
“That might be best,” Sieglinde admitted. “I’m afraid I don’t have the physical abilities the rest of you do.”
“Me, neither,” Hestia said, gasping for breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Not to worry, fair Hestia,” Galahad said. “I am more than capable of —”
“I’ll give you a lift,” Artemis said, scooping Hestia up in her arms. Hestia gave a startled cry, and then settled in, holding onto Artemis.
“I’ve got you,” Bronn said, lifting Sieglinde with just one of his huge arms and settling her into a seat on his shoulder. Caleb gawked at the sight, Bronn’s impossible size clearer than ever.
He’s, like… five of me. With about ten times more muscle. I’ve heard the “mountain of a man” descriptor, but this is the first time it’s seemed so… literal.
Their pace quickened considerably, now that Sieglinde and Hestia were safe in the hands of those who could carry themselves faster than they could run on their own. Even so, there was no sign yet of the top of the stairs, and their improved pace still wasn’t stopping the roar of the coming flood from growing closer.
“Is your angry dragon gonna make it in time?” Chelsea asked.
An earth-shaking roar sounded from Nidhogg, far closer — and angrier — than the previous roars. “He prefers to be called by his name,” Sieglinde said calmly. “I understand your grievances with him, but he is on your side now. Won’t you show him some kindness?”
Chelsea tsked softly enough that probably only Caleb heard it. “Yeah, sure, let’s be kind and polite while running for our lives from a wave of Darkness,” she said, dry sarcasm hiding the meaning behind her use of wording.
“Wave of Darkness.” She’d faced exactly that, firsthand, in the Library of Solitude. And this wave of Darkness was far worse, far more all-consuming. For all her victories over the Darkness — her latest being one that she and Caleb had shared — she wasn’t eager to take this flood head-on.
Neither was Caleb. This wasn’t a Darkness he was keen on trying to defeat from within.
“Hurry it up, Nidhogg!” Chelsea shouted, clicking one of her lighters to send a blast of emerald flame back down the stairs. That fire impacted on something and roared to life far too soon for anyone’s comfort.
All was a sudden rumbling, roaring cacophony. Chelsea and several others were shouting, their words inaudible over the din of booming fire, dragon-Summon roars, and an oncoming, far-too-close-for-comfort flood of living Darkness. Caleb gripped his pocket watch Talisman, readying himself for a Phase Step, plotting out how he’d grab each and every one of them and take them all with him up and out to Grimoire’s streets.
Just as it all seemed too much, as it seemed like they were out of time, a glimmer of silver light appeared high above them. That glimmer grew brighter and larger, and then revealed itself to be the glimmering silver dragon-Summon of Sieglinde’s, Nidhogg, the guardian of Yggdrasil’s roots. His fanged maw was open wide in a fierce battle cry, his huge serpentine body soaring down the stairs with a vengeance. The spiraling staircase had a wall on its outer side, but the inner side was wide open, a plunging descent through the Well, and Nidhogg dove down that empty space, leaving the stairs free for Sieglinde and her companions who couldn’t fly freely like him.
His crash against the flood of Darkness came soon after, like a clap of thunder, the shockwave that followed launching each of them up several steps. Caleb and Chelsea barely kept their feet, and both of them helped Will and Gwen when they staggered. The former Shadows and Radiance were all fine, and together they all ran up and up, while Nidhogg fought a desperate battle against the Darkness.
“Quickly!” Sieglinde called back, her voice booming — she was using Enhancement Magic to ensure they could hear her over the din of battle. “The top of the steps are close. We need to be swift. Nidhogg cannot hold it off forever — and I fear what will happen to him if we ask too much of him.”
Caleb shuddered at that realization. He remembered how, both times that Chelsea had ended up in Shadowland, deep within the Darkness, her owl Summon had vanished, and it had taken a great deal of effort to call him back to her, for him to find her. He knew well how deep the bond between Summoner and Summon went thanks to Chelsea, Shana, and Delilah.
We have to be faster. For Nidhogg’s sake — and Sieglinde’s.
Twice more shockwaves exploded from below, and twice more they all staggered, stumbled, and barely kept their footing. Once Will fell entirely, and Caleb pulled him up, the pair of them running up with arms around each other, supporting each other until they found their footing again.
And then they were there. The end of the stairs, up and out, freedom! At least, for now. They still had to run the long gauntlet of Grimoire’s Underground. But these tunnels were more known to them, and they were on more friendly turf.
That was made most apparent by the tendrils snaking out from the walls of the tunnels, golden roots lighting the way back home.
They were back in Yggdrasil’s domain.
“Nidhogg, come back!” Sieglinde cried, and a powerful — but somewhat pained — roar came in reply. Soon the silver dragon flew back up out of the Well, streaming vapors of Darkness that fell off of him in his flight, and charged into one of the walls, vanishing straight into it. “He’ll spend some time recovering,” Sieglinde explained. “Yggdrasil will guard us, now.”
“What’s going on?” asked a Hunter farther down the tunnel, one of the pair that were assigned to guard the passage to the Well.
“Don’t ask just run!” Chelsea shouted in clipped tones, waving the Hunter forward. The Hunter and his fellow guardsman turned and ran, asking no more. They both knew Caleb and Chelsea, and if Chelsea was that frantic about something, they knew to listen.
They were hundreds of paces down the tunnel when the Darkness finally breached the Well’s surface with a crash and a fury. It surged after them, but Yggdrasil’s roots slowed its advance. There was hope, hope at last!
But it was all just stalling. How high did the Darkness intend to rise? Did it just want to fill the tunnels?
Or had it decided the time had come to claim the city itself?
They didn’t have Relays, they didn’t have Paladins or Sub-Paladins. The Grimoire Guard were on their own against the Darkness here.
But that, too, had been part of the plan.
We just have to hold on. We have to hold back the Darkness, long enough for Delilah, Shana, Shias, and Fae to do their thing. To turn the Key of the World. To stop the Endless Night, to stop Sal!
We don’t have to defeat the Darkness, or Sal. We just have to hold them back long enough for Delilah to do her thing.
But…
There was a question, a question Caleb dreaded. Because everything felt like it was moving too quickly. The Well had decided to flood itself far too soon. And reports from above had told of Darkness-born versions of Stalkers, the giant monsters that regularly attacked Renault.
Sal was stepping up the attack, more and more and more. Too fast, all too fast.
…have we bought enough time? Will we buy enough time?
Mom, Dad, everyone… I hope the city above is doing better than we’re doing down here.
——
Callum charged, following Jacob’s lead.
Jacob Crowley and Sen crossed swords, and for one tiny, infinitesimal moment, it looked like they were equally matched.
The moment passed in an instant, and Jacob Crowley was sent flying, crashing into something far behind. Callum didn’t turn to look.
He kept his eyes fixed on this new foe.
Even Marcus couldn’t defeat Sen. That leaves our chances of beating him at…
Well, basically zero. But maybe there’s a tiny chance in there somewhere. We have all of Grimoire together.
If we can just hold on, if we can just find a way… he’s all alone, too. Against all of us. There has to be a way to win!
Callum used his Electricity Magic to “warp” with bolts of cobalt-blue lightning, vanishing entirely and following the current to a distant point. He warped out, around, and behind Sen, then blasted him full in the back with a focused bolt of electricity.
He’d unleashed a huge blast earlier on the Shadow-Stalker that he and Jacob had slain. Sen wasn’t a giant — he was barely taller than Jacob was. But he was a Son of Night — the strongest of the Sons of Night. So Callum didn’t hold back. He charged even more power than he’d used against the Shadow-Stalker, focused it into a tight, concentrated bolt of lightning, and launched it at Sen. Magic that had brought down a Shadow-Stalker had to at least have some impact on their new foe.
Right?
Sen, apparently, disagreed.
Without even turning to face Callum, he raised his sword. and angled it down and back to guard the bolt of electricity, redirecting it harmlessly into the earth.
Well. Fine. He blocked it. But if I actually manage to hit him, that’ll be a different story.
…I hope. And that’s a big “if” after he blocked that without even looking.
Jacob Crowley emerged from a distant pile of fresh rubble before the dust had even settled. He stepped out, key-shaped sword in hand, using his free hand to brush dust off his shoulders. The dark glare he fixed on Sen was a challenge — a dangerous challenge, after how handily he’d been tossed aside in the first exchange: “Is that all you’ve got?”
Sen took his first step forward since the battle started, crossing the city line, establishing himself firmly within the boundaries of Grimoire. There was no using the city’s magical barrier now, no city-wide Guardian Magic that would keep him out.
The fight was on. There was no running, not anymore.
But it wasn’t just Jacob Crowley and Callum Greyson who were fighting Sal. Even in this immediate area on the edge of the city, there were more fighters at hand.
Hagan Rook, for instance. Co-head of the Guardian Guild, a bear of a man with a thick, black beard and imposing stature, he was nearly a head taller than Sen, and planted himself firmly between the Son of Night and Jacob Crowley.
Sen cocked his head to the side, like a dog that was slightly confused by something. “Why is it that you people keep thinking you can stand against me alone?” he asked.
And then, in the space of a breath, he crossed the dozens of yards between himself and Hagan, bringing his sword down with impossible force.
But he didn’t strike Hagan.
Hagan held up both hands, each of the ring Talismans he bore shining bright with magical light. The man’s arms trembled, his expression contorted with the effort…
But the pulsing magical barrier between himself and Sen’s sword held.
“No one here is alone,” said a new voice. Mercedes Rook, Hagan’s wife and co-head of the Guardian Guild with him, stood a ways off, along with several other members of the Guardian Guild. Each of them had their Talismans held out, gleaming with light, adding their own Guardian Magic to Hagan’s barrier.
A bolt of light shot down from one of Grimoire’s old watch towers, striking Sen in the shoulder. It didn’t leave a mark, and Sen didn’t react as if he’d felt a thing, but his eyes slowly went up to gaze upon the one who’d attacked him.
Up on the high tower was Jackson Redburne, “The Sniper,” as he was often called. A Hunter a few years older than Callum, he’d always been a strange, solitary sort. But he’d also often been the one thing standing between a Hunter and a grisly end. Most of them had never even known he’d saved them. He had numerous weapons imbued with Augmentation Magic, rifles of his own design that fired magical energy rather than physical projectiles.
High up and far away, only Jackson’s signature brown duster coat was visible alongside the glint on the edge of his rifle. But his shot had been a statement to echo Mercedes’.
No one here was fighting alone.
Jacob and Callum both charged at once, Jacob swinging his sword, Callum launching a focused bolt of electricity. Sen pulled back from Hagan’s barrier to engage the pair, contemptuously slapping Jacob away with one slash before blocking Callum’s attack with the next. Another bolt fired from Jackson’s roost, pelting Sen full in the side of the face, and Sen flinched, ever so slightly. Maybe it was just annoyance at being struck in such a place. Maybe he still wasn’t hurt at all.
But that tiny flinch was a rallying cry to the Grimoire Guard.
More Hunters rose up, charged from their positions or attacked from a distance. The ground itself opened up beneath Sen’s feet, Deirdre’s Manipulation Magic crafting a sinkhole that immediately closed up over Sen’s legs, trapping him for a moment. Sen broke free and rose back up, but not before blocking a dozen different attacks — and being struck by a dozen more. Jackson’s pinpoint bolts of light were joined by numerous varied magics of more and more Hunters. Other Manipulation Magic specialists sent roof tiles and fallen rubble zipping at Sen at the speed of bullets. Glowing playing cards were thrown, different suits and numbers corresponding to different effects on contact — explosions, concussive bursts, bursting into slashing projectiles or electrically-charged cords that wrapped around Sen’s sword and limbs. Containment Magic manifested as shimmering magnets that locked onto Sen’s limbs, struggling mightily to pin his arms and sword to the ground. A red, man-sized salamander Summon belched out arcing explosives like a living mortar. One hockey-stick-wielding Hunter slap-shot several explosive hockey pucks straight at Sen.
The magnets didn’t succeed in binding Sen’s arms, nor did other Containment Magic efforts. The various projectiles left no visible marks or even pained reactions from the Son of Night, despite numerous direct hits.
But somehow, in the midst of exhaustion, exhaustion born from weeks of fighting too much with too little rest, an exhaustion that had left many of these same Hunters teetering on the edge of despair, wondering in anguish when it was all going to end… when faced against such an impossible foe as Sen, these same Hunters stepped up to the challenge.
And more were on the way. Deirdre only fought for a few moments, before ducking away from the battlefield. Her mastery of Divination Magic would let her see all of the details no matter how far from the fight she got, and she knew, just as they all knew, that her role was the most important of all.
She was the Grimoire Guard’s chief coordinator, the one who had so ably run all of their operations ever since the relentless combat had begun.
It was Deirdre who could best rally the troops and get Callum, Jacob, and the rest of them the reinforcements they needed.
No one fighter was going to make up the difference against Sen. More than anything, they needed their best coordinator doing what she did best.
Because they needed all hands on deck, right here, right now.
Jacob, astoundingly, rose up after yet another one-strike beating from Sen that had sent him through a rock wall and out the other side in a hail of brick and stone and dust. His dark coat and hair were now coated with fine sandy powder, but his composure was forever solid and stalwart. Callum kept a focus on what he did best, staying highly mobile and striking from a distance. Sen seemed to recognize him as a threat — every single one of his focused, ultra-powerful bolts of electricity was blocked by Sen’s sword, often in such a way that left him wide open to numerous other attacks.
Callum held nothing back with each attack. Against the Shadow-Stalker, he’d unleashed a wide, wild blast. That was always easiest, and was tremendously effective against even the most frightening of monsters, as he’d shown.
But when push came to shove, his most powerful attacks involved concentrating the chaotic, rampant Elemental Magic within him into a rippling, lancing bolt of lightning, aimed at a specific target. It was no easy task, and six such bolts at full power, alongside a great deal of warping up, down, and all around the battlefield, was already leaving Callum gasping for breath.
But he was grinning.
It’s me he singles out, every single time, as a threat to defend against. I still haven’t hit him, not even a glancing blow. Will I actually be able to hurt him? Nothing else seems to.
But there’s got to be a first time for everything, right?
The next time Jacob engaged with Sen, their swords crossing, Sen couldn’t toss Jacob away with his insane strength. Hagan, Mercedes, and other Guardians blunted the impact of Sen’s own strength with Guardian Magic, and Jacob was able to trade several blows with the Son of Night. It was a shocking display, Sen and his massive, two-handed sword with its broad blade against Jacob and his slender, one-handed, key-shaped sword. Jacob was a deceptively fast, technically proficient swordsman, but against Sen, his speed meant nothing. Sen was too strong, too fast, for any one fighter to out-duel.
But Sen did have to focus on Jacob. He always sought to block and counter Jacob’s attacks, rather than let Jacob’s sword actually strike him.
That left him wide open. And while other attacks were striking Sen’s body and doing no harm, Callum warped across the battlefield from one rooftop to another, and then fired a full-power, concentrated bolt of cobalt-blue lightning straight for Sen’s back.
In the midst of his duel with Jacob Crowley, Sen disengaged for a brief moment to pick Callum’s attack out of all the others coming his way, and block it.
As disheartening as it was to see yet another of his bolts blocked, Callum couldn’t help but feel triumphant. Because he’d given Jacob Crowley the opening he needed, and Jacob capitalized on it.
Two strikes, sure and true, before he leapt away from Sen’s return slash. Jacob had struck Sen on the elbow of his sword arm and the wrist of his other arm. In both places, magical padlocks appeared, clicking locked in place. Sen paused a moment, pulling mightily at one, then slashing the other with his powerful sword.
Neither padlock would give or be broken.
A chink in the invincible Sen’s armor. Something he couldn’t break, something he couldn’t destroy. What it would mean in the long term, Callum didn’t know. He knew very little about Jacob’s strange use of Containment Magic. He knew that the padlocks he placed were on a timer, and when that timer was up, they did… something. Usually they served to massively weigh down whatever they’d secured themselves onto. But he’d seen them completely immobilize a target, and even put one to sleep. There must be some sort of Covenant Magic involved — the timer must be a rule, as well as needing to strike the target with his sword to place the locks — but that Covenant Magic must also play into their indestructible nature and flexible array of abilities.
The question was — when their time was up, would those locks actually have an effect on Sen?
The attack continued in earnest, and Hagan, Mercedes, and their Guardians were bolstered by more Guardians joining the fight. More Hunters arrived as well, adding their own attacks to the fray. Several were more close-combat specialists, and they struggled the most.
Even with Guardian Magic protecting them, two sword-wielders were dealt grievous blows and forced to pull back, carried to safety by their allies. Even Taylor Chanson, one of the best swordsmen in the entire Hunter Guild, who’d seen exceptional success against the Shadow-Stalkers on Grimoire’s west side with his team alongside Oscar, was swiftly beaten by Sen. His closest friend and teammate, Thalia Koichi, a specialist in long-ranged Confrontation Magic, kept up the attack in his stead as other teammates carried him to safety, launching a constant barrage of scything crescent-moon-shaped projectiles from a pair of bracers on her wrists. Gabriel Raymond, a Hunter who rode atop his armored horse summon wielding an Augmented lance, landed several blows on Sen before Sen shattered the man’s lance with a powerful series of slashes, forcing Gabriel to fall back. Several other Augmented weapons met the same fate, from axes to spears to swords. Only Jacob Crowley’s key-shaped blade held firm against repeated clashes with Sen’s dark sword.
And for all the blows the numerous Hunters landed on Sen, he continued to fight on unscathed, unflinching. Still the padlocks on his arms held steady, not activating whatever special effect they were destined for.
Just as Callum saw another of his high-powered bolts deflected — just as he felt like he was at the very end of his energy reserves and fell to an undignified seat on the roof — two heartening sounds pierced the din of battle.
Click. Click.
A pair of clicks, a pair of signals that the locks had dug in tighter, had activated the secret magic within them.
Sen’s arms suddenly dropped, pinned to his sides. There was a flicker in his eyes — was it surprise? Fear was too much to hope for, surely.
But surprise was good.
Everyone else seemed to think the same as Callum. A cry went up, that developed into a roar as more and more Hunters and Guardians added their voices. The attack was gained greater fervor than ever before. A new wave of reinforcements arrived just then, as if on cue, fresh fighters to put their powers to use against their invincible foe.
And Callum found a bit more strength within him. Focusing his electricity, he fired one more high-powered, fully concentrated bolt of cobalt-blue lightning straight at Sen’s back.
And this time, he struck true.
Sen shuddered and pitched forward, nearly falling. Callum’s eyes went wide. The triumphant roar of more than a hundred of the Grimoire Guard rose to a deafening volume, and a new barrage of attacks fell upon the staggering Sen. Smoke and flame erupted, a cloud obscuring the Son of Night from view.
Callum reached within himself, fought for another bit of strength. Could he fire one more blast? If that was the only thing that would hurt Sen, then he’d have to do it again. One shot was never going to be enough for this foe, no matter how potent.
And he found it. Electricity crackled to life between his hands, feebly at first, but then finding its current and growing stronger. Callum built it up, bit by bit, as he watched the smoke slowly clear…
And then a dark form dashed out from the cloud. Callum didn’t even have a full second before that dark form collided with him, and he was dropped to his back on the roof, tiles shattering beneath him, the wind forced out of him in a staggering blow to the chest, his hands knocked wide, his grasp on electricity gone.
Sen was there, standing over him, one booted foot planted on Callum’s chest. Sen’s arms were still pinned to his sides, helpless, but his huge black sword hovered over him, angling downward, ready for a killing stroke.
“There will be no more of that,” said Sen in his dark, smooth voice.
The sword thrust for Callum’s heart.
It never found it.
It took Callum several moments to figure out what had happened. Because he wasn’t lying in a crumble of shattered roof tiles, but on an old watch tower. He wasn’t staring up at Sen and his sword, but at the golden boughs of Yggdrasil, and…
Oh. There it was.
When he blinked, a face appeared in his vision. Not the face of Sen, dark and commanding, no. This was the glowing-blue-eyed, blue-streak-in-his-bangs, smiling face of his son.
Caleb was here.
“Looks like we made it just in time,” Caleb said. His whole body was aglow with a deep blue aura for a moment, one that matched his eyes and hair, before that slowly faded. “You okay?”
Callum opened his mouth to speak, but found he still didn’t have breath in his lungs. Sucking in a pained, wheezing breath, he then thought better of speaking, and nodded.
“He’ll live,” said Jackson, for Callum had been carried up to the same watch tower that the Sniper was using as his perch.
Up there with him was his occasional partner, a young Healer named Cara Winter. She gave a nod, glasses Talisman glowing as she looked over Callum. “Don’t worry, Caleb,” she said in her calm, steady voice. “I’ll see to that.”
“Thanks,” Caleb said. He looked back at his father one more time. “Don’t worry, Dad. We’ll take it from here.”
And Caleb leapt from the tower without another word.
Callum would have turned to watch him go, but he really wasn’t feeling up for much moving at the moment. He was in a nice place, though — it was good that he could stare up at the golden boughs of Yggdrasil. They were a beautiful addition to Grimoire’s sky.
And he could smile more easily than ever before.
Because he was tremendously proud of his son.