"We'll know if they succeeded soon enough."
Ifrit pointed at the cuneiforms as they swirled like dark stars in a half circle that reached Bahamut's shoulders. The scent of salt overwhelmed his nostrils, and water roiled into the center, filling it in the blink of an eye.
Through the dark liquid, the outline of a white-golden plaza formed. Thousands of silhouettes in neat battalions, clutching spears, swords, and shields, glared at the titanic Bahamut.
The fire in their eyes, their unflinching posture against impossible odds, caused Bart's heart to drum in his ears. A rush of scalding blood seared his marrow, and his fists tightened. This feeling! The same as eleven years ago—the same as when Adam led them to conquer Oikos: the call of war.
However, things were much different now.
"Mama!" Maria and Noah yelled, drawing his gaze to his wife's proud figure at the front.
Nine tails of pure white fur swayed behind Shihan as she winked at them, then gazed at Bahamut again.
