Yatagarasu Meiryu stood there, his stalwart thighs seemingly one with the ground, this mountain of a man appearing as docile as a child next to Sword Master Cold Crow.
"Let's go," he said.
Sword Master Cold Crow was still wearing a wide long robe, the dark spots on his face increasing in number, creating the impression that he could reach the end of his life at any moment.
Roger followed behind the two, taking a step forward, the scenery around him flipping upside down.
The dim and narrow room vanished, cool air rushing into his nostrils, the sunlight above warm but not scorching, igniting a hint of warmth at the bottom of his heart.
The group was probably at the summit of Hankawa, and contrary to expectations, the perennially snow-covered Hankawa was bursting with the spirit of spring at its peak.
Like a patch of green amidst the snow mountain, Roger could see the unique vista where spring and winter merged.