A fake full moon shone brightly on the 7th floor, basking the entire forest in its pale and melancholic light.
On top of the stone wall, Aito stared into the distance, his gaze hunting for any abnormalities that would signal the start of his uncommon quest.
Segolene had left his camp earlier, leaving the stage of his fight, observing everything from a distance where he could not see or sense her.
Aito kept dropping Soulcleaver down the trench at the foot of the wall, then called it back. A small game he found to canalize his anxiousness but also get more familiar with his new weapon.
The moderator had said his quest would start when the moon reached its highest point. With that as a reference, he had taken the time to craft bonfires all around his camp for lighting purposes. Then he had rested a little while, absorbing as many soul cores as he could.
He had carried two backpacks filled to the brim when leaving Krukhanon, now only one remained.
"Words have power, sometimes much more than power itself, but doubts remain. Was Valinar lying, or was she truthful? The Woodcutter perceived it as a half-lie, half-truth. But for the first time, he felt Valinar wasn't looking down on him. Where would this turning point in their relationship lead to? Mutual benefice or his doom? For now, he did not know. He could only step forward. Always forward."
Extract from, "Yggdrasil Chronicles, the Woodcutter of Iris," by Roan the Merchant.