Editing City Series:Volume2 Chapter 4 (section)

===Part 2===

The perfectly clear night sky covered the heavens with some purple remaining to the west.

The moon filled the sky.

It was not a full moon. Some of the roundness was lacking.

The moonlight did not reach the city of London evenly. It fell weakly on the bright downtown area and strongly on the many nature parks.

St. James’s Park was one such nature park. It was located east of Buckingham Palace, a large lake extended from east to west, and it was surrounded by woods.

It was a quiet park. The sun had only just set, so not much noise was reaching it from the city. During winter, the entrance closed at four, so there were no guests in the park.

Nothing moved and it gave off a faint pale light. That was the reflected moonlight. It almost looked like time had stopped there. With nothing to see it, the park did not move. It simply stayed still without Overriding itself.

Or so it should have been.

Everything should have been still and unchanging, but sudden motion entered the park. First, the trees of the woods trembled and shook their leaves.

Small waves covered the lake surface.

A slight wind blew through.

This wind did not carry a wind spirit. The air itself had moved as if called by something.

The wind danced at a gentle pace on its way to the western woods. It followed a stone-paved walking path through the woods and stopped halfway through.

At that point, the path widened.

A stone slab was installed near the curbstone. The stone had words carved into it.

“We pray for the peaceful afterlife of the following victims of the slaughter that occurred here.”

A voice read the inscription.

At the same time, a bouquet of flowers was tossed on top of the moonlit stone.

It had been thrown by the wingless demon named Amon.

He called the names of those who had been killed here even though the inscribed names were covered by the bouquet.

He called forty-two names and took a breath.

“Sorry. I still haven’t died.”

His pale breath scattered.

“It’s been two years, but it doesn’t feel anywhere near that long. …The only survivors were Fir, me because I left the team, and two or three others.”

His eyes turned toward the bouquet on the stone, but he was not looking at it.

A bitter smile appeared on his lips, but he quickly erased it.

“What do you think, Eilen? Why were you with me? Why did you decide to stay by my side? And…”

And?

“What were you trying to say when you died in my arms?”

He recalled another instant from his nightmares.

“My mother was the same. When she died in my place, why did she smile toward me? …Why?”

There was no one there to answer his question.

“…”

He bit his lower lip and looked away from the stone slab. He closed his eyes as if to say he did not want to see anything.

Suddenly, the wind struck his cheek. The bottom of his jacket waved about and his body swayed.

The leaves rustled as if the woods were jumping around. It sounded like waves or spraying water.

“!”

This was a powerful wind and it was so cold and sharp it felt like it was cutting into him.

This wind felt like it had actual mass and Amon knew what it was called: murderous intent.

He opened his eyes.

The bouquet on the stone slab had been blown away and the forty-two names were visible.

“Wait for me.”

With that, he turned his back on the stone and faced the source of the murderous blowing wind.

He looked down the walking path and saw the moonlit stone pavement.

A man stood there.

His right hand held a sharp line of light that looked like it had been tempered in the moonlight. One glance was enough to know this was a quality sword.

The man was about five meters away, so he was not in combat range just yet.

The man was the first to name himself.

“Hound Rickland Valeath.”

He held the long sword in front of his face, split his own vision in two using the back of the blade, and stared at Amon.

“I swear on this sword I shall slay you.”