Crimson fog spread, gradually swallowing the world around.
Watching the inscrutable crimson mist, Albrecht curled the corners of his mouth, beaming as he stared at the petrified Roman Sword:
"Look, Lord Roman, the master—His Lordship has already arrived."
Having said that, Albrecht suddenly turned and knelt on one knee towards the deepest part of the crimson fog and bowed respectfully:
"The source of all Bloodlines, the supreme and greatest Ancestor, your humble servant Albrecht, renders unto You the highest reverence..."
"Hehe, Albrecht, long time no see. You have become quite the silver-tongued one."
A light chuckle emerged from within the crimson fog, ethereal and lazy.
Hearing that voice which seemed to ring in the depths of one's heart, the Roman Sword stiffened slightly, even the flickering light of its blade becoming somewhat erratic.
The dense fog gradually dissipated, and the scenery around them shifted entirely.
