The conversation in the Spirit World gradually came to a close.
Soon after, Galos drew his consciousness away from the invisible network, refocusing on reality.
He raised his head, glancing at the sky above Needleleaf Valley.
It was afternoon, the clear sky stretched endlessly, the sunlight fierce yet not glaring, carrying a lazy warmth.
Sometimes, the golden rays gathered into divine pillars, piercing through the overlapping needle-leaf canopies, straight into the woods; sometimes, they were scattered and fragmented by the mountain breeze stirring the swaying branches, transforming into numerous flickering light spots, dancing in the forest glades.
They fell upon the broad back of the Red Iron Dragon, as if a layer of shining gold leaf had plated his scales.
The sense of battle damage formed by the state of the red lotus was temporarily concealed.
Galos slowly closed his heavy eyelids, isolating the light and shadows outside.
He was resting, yet adjusting.
