"The Storm Sea... the Holy Land has already fallen, does that mean... wahhhh! No, not that! The Holy Descendants must still be there, boo hoo!"
At this moment, Emhardt, who was floating in mid-air, was momentarily startled before collapsing onto the deck as if in a breakdown, rolling around like a child throwing a tantrum while shouting in his distinctive raspy voice,
"What do I do now? I've been looking for so long... why can't I remember anything... Fisher, boo hoo!"
Fisher sighed and picked him up from the ground, looking at the tearful Emhardt in front of him, he couldn't help feeling a bit puzzled,
"Wait a second, logically speaking, relics like you that have consciousness should be the highest level items that Angels can make, and they should be cherished and kept close. How is it that you don't even know when the Holy Land was destroyed... Right, didn't you meet Pandora's Artificial Eye before? Did you ask her?"
