When Rode and Percival arrived at the Sacred Fire altar, the figure was standing before the Sacred Fire, back turned to them.

Though it had only been a few dozen days since they last met, Rode felt as if decades had passed.

The former king always gave him an immense feeling, as if a towering mountain stood before him, yet its exact size was vague, like a mountain shrouded in mist.

But now, that feeling had vanished.