He struggled in his dreams. Those blood-red eyes, those fragmented memory fragments, and the vast and rough world under the sky, there was a tightly entangled bond, which was pulling him step by step towards another world.
He was searching for his confusing life experience. Why can I master the magic of making wind and rain? Why can't he let go of those historical pasts? Why does your own wisdom make others so afraid? In the mist, he wandered, hesitant, where did he come from? After all, where is your own?
The people he met, those comrades who shared the pain together, the friends who laughed and scolded together, and the people who had been enamored, enchanted, and heartbroken, may be together or separated, but they all left a deep mark on his heart.