"If it were him, he wouldn't have struggled for even a minute against an opponent like this…"
Surrounded on all sides, the Vermithor Sword blazed without pause, its glow like a cry for help, as its wielder found himself in a hopeless situation.
Snow, his face smeared with blood and his golden eyes dimmed, fixed his gaze far ahead—at the Cosmos, the creature weaving its web around him.
"If Frey Starlight were here… none of this would be happening."
Once, there had been a time when Frey was far beneath him. In the blink of an eye, he had caught up—becoming his equal. Snow had been content with that.
But without realizing it… Frey had advanced far ahead, leaving him behind.
Snow Lionheart had never slacked—not once—and had trained just as hard as Frey. Yet for some reason…
The one beloved by light could no longer advance, no matter how he tried, as if he had slammed into some invisible wall keeping him from catching up to his peers.
