Centuries later, Dylan Grant wrote about the beginning of it all.
It was in the windy and snowy imperial capital of Dorante, and the young doctor didn't know that he had been placed on the chessboard by fate.
Conspiracies flow in the dark, and the entanglements of the nobles are like invisible spider webs. All this is just a ripple in the long stream of time.
Richard Willis, your name is like a sigh.
We are lost in the long river of time, with no life, no death, and no future.
Intention: He stared at his fate and knew that he could not escape it