"Yes."
A deep and hoarse voice echoed from the void.
Like a middle-aged hero, a savior of an old day who once saved the world.
Now utterly exhausted, yet with reasons to draw the sword once again.
"... Don Quixote, fighting for you."
That voice, light as though telling a story to a child, almost a whisper.
Yet as it spoke, it instantly eclipsed the roar of cannon fire explosions.
In an instant, the entire world fell into an eerie silence.
A man dressed in a grey-white robe, standing tall though slightly gaunt, appeared before Aiwass.
As Don Quixote emerged, he instantly drew the longsword from his waist.
As he slowly raised the longsword above his head, all missiles, bullets, arrows flying in the air, and even the giant axe swung by the golem came to a gradual halt.
Like the hands of a clock gradually pointing to twelve.
As if time had frozen——
The next moment, Don Quixote slashed down with his longsword.
