"The time of joy has ended, and the road ahead is full of thorns and hardships."
The night was deep, and Hebdo sat on the balcony lounge chair, reciting the words from the book under the moonlight.
Nordro gave them the largest suite on the White Tide, and this time everyone could finally stay under one roof without disturbing each other.
Eve and the Red Falcon had already gone to sleep, and Heracles was still in an unknown state. Lorenzo had called for the ship doctor, but after a long examination, there was no result. The doctor guessed it might not be a physiological illness, but rather a psychological issue with Heracles.
"Are you a poet? I thought Vikings didn't like such gentle things."
Lorenzo sat on the sofa in the living room, with his cello case on the small table before him, the inside open and full of deadly weapons.
He was wiping the weapons, cleaning them until they shined like mirrors.
