From the path led by that wind

what the wind left behind The sea didn't cry anymore. The waves died down, and only the salty wind swept over the ruins. The dryer did not move. stood there like a root. It wasn't a flight, it wasn't a surrender. It was just the one left behind. Where Naird disappeared Broken altars and cooled water, And there was only an empty resonance left by the cup of life. “……Yes." He spoke low. It wasn't even clear to whom he was talking. "If the wind leads, I go." There was a sound of roots being plucked from the ground. It's not the sound of a tree falling down, It wasn't even the sound of cutting with a knife. It was a sound of breaking the will. Dried lifted the crossbow. There was no bowing, and the decoration was gone. But it was still a weapon of the forest. When he took his first step, Between the tangled forest and the collapsed coastline Something began to move. Residual population coastal variant group Salt crystals in the wind are embedded in the ground to form a shape. Salt-relics stood up like rocks The fog cracked and the mist clutter's arms stretched Coral Breaker with Coral Crack twisted, breaking the waves Tide Weaver twisted the space because the water stream was twisted They did not rush. It was like, standing in the way. The dryer didn't stop. the first shot. The crossbow doesn't ring. Instead, the air rips. A penetrating shot penetrates the core of Saltrellic A stone's shot gets caught up in the fog and breaks down the clutter The vision shot explodes along the coral's grain He was not quick. But it didn't shake. Let the surge expand by swallowing an electric current The dryer immediately changed the angle. I don't use electricity. Instead, they use wind, stones, and streets. Meyer Crowler tore the ground and popped out The root shot was stuck first. The ground hardens, and Crowler is shattered by his own inertia. There is no blood, no anger. There is only forward progress. the whispers of the wind When the battle was over, Dried didn't hold his breath. Instead, I raised my head. Far away, far away, a split sky over a dark cloud. Underneath it, the fine tremors of the yet-to-be-devastated veins. “……There you are." The life that Naird moved It wasn't completely gone