Merchant

On the field, heavy snow was falling, but somewhere else under the ground, the temperature was hotter than during summer. A river of boiling lava in the canyon was the source of the heat and the light. Around sixty meters above the canyon, there was a long steel cable bridge made of iron plates and cables. God knows how long it had been roasted for it to have turned the whole bridge into a dull black color, giving it an aged and extraordinary ponderous feeling.

Leopold was lying next to the canyon, curling his body in a peculiar posture. His right hand was strenuously stretched backward, trying to grab the long sword that was pinned to the ground through his calf. From the perspective of the human anatomy, even if he kept his calf immobilized, he still wouldn't be able to exert his power even if he had reached the handle, unless he had decided to give up on this calf.