Gonzalez City.
On a desolate mountain ten miles outside the city.
A man with white hair flowing, dressed in black, holding a longsword in one hand.
The sword sheath is entirely white, with seven rubies embedded on it.
At the center of the gems, there is golden lettering, inscribed with small words.
The eternal night, light no longer.
The small hill is some distance from the city center, but it's a place where locals often come to hike.
At this moment, it's already evening.
It's dark.
But there's still a touch of residual light.
The man steps on the withered leaves, staring straight ahead.
Suddenly.
Sounds came from the woods.
"Paris, once the child in your belly is born, I'll divorce that old hag!"
"Felix Davenport, you lied to me to get into bed by saying that before. Now I'm pregnant, and you say to wait until the child is born. I really worry that after the child is born, you'll ask me to continue waiting."
