A Place Filled with Ominous Mist.

Hundreds of poles were stuck in the ground like gravestones.

A wind carrying the dampness in the air swept through every few minutes, bringing with it a faint scent of blood.

Whoosh—

Yet, the poles did not fall, even in the wind. Though clearly made of wood, the poles that had appeared here from some distant time were still sturdy.

And they all looked similar. It was impossible to distinguish which was the weapon of the three heroes.

"..." "..."

Cara and Lotta were examining the poles that had been gathered from various parts of the Misty Plains. Nearby, the [Nameless Hawk] stood watch.

Even Lotta had stepped back to patrol in order to help Cara focus. Thus, the two remained in heavy silence.

"..." "..."

Even though they tried to identify them by the patterns described in the books... distinguishing the hundreds of patterns engraved on the handles of the poles was a monumental task.@@novelbin@@

So, they had chosen a different approach, sitting down after planting all the collected poles in the ground like gravestones.

Sitting with her arms crossed, Cara spoke, trying to guess which pole might have belonged to the [Flag Bearer of Rebellion].

"...By the way, what kind of people were the hero and the flag bearer?" "Tweet... I'm sorry, but I don't know much either..." "You don't need to give a precise or sharp insight. Just tell me even the trivial details. After all, aren't you the one here who knows the most about them?"

The [Nameless Hawk] reluctantly nodded.

"Tweet... That's true." "Then please, tell me."

Cara tied her long hair back and closed her eyes. The wind had been bothering her, making her hair flutter.

"To be honest, I don't fully believe that I am destined to succeed the [Flag Bearer of Rebellion]... nor that all three of us were fated to be heroes. We're not such grand figures."

"..."

"The achievements we've made so far were all thanks to the cooperation of our seniors and fellow students. Frankly speaking, we've just been lucky to receive the fruits of their labor. I'm nothing but a young rascal with a bit of a rebellious streak."

"..."

"So no matter how much I try to imagine the true nature of the two heroes who raised and led so many warriors, I just can't. All I know is..."

Cara recalled a story her adoptive father, a dwarf craftsman from a shabby village, had told her just before bed.

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