WHOOSH—
The wind was churning, and the fire was roaring.
Yet, the people at the scene seemed stripped of their voices, utterly quiet; no one spoke. Even slightly heavier breaths now sounded strikingly clear. Everyone's gaze converged on one spot, staring intently at the dust thinned by the wind, watching as the silhouette within it became increasingly distinct and solid. A chill rose from their tailbones to the tops of their heads. Some even involuntarily held their breath, their pupils dilating.
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd.
SWOOSH—
The dust dispersed, and the figure fully emerged.
It was a twenty-two-year-old youth with fair skin, well-defined muscles, and hair swept back by the wind, looking handsome and resolute!
He stood there, his impressive height making him seem incredibly imposing.
He cradled a child of about seven or eight in his arms. The child's hair was disheveled, his face still etched with lingering terror.
