Dominic Morn, with those golden eyes that glow in the darkness, fixes his gaze on Godfrey, a soft smile gracing his lips. His voice is calm, yet within it echoes a power that flows from the depths of

Godfrey: “Dominic Morn, my dear, do you remember I told you I had come to my countryside house? Sometimes at night, jackals come near the stable and the cows or the geese’s coop. They let out these

Dominic Morn, with those golden eyes that always seem to pierce the depths of the soul, does not hide his soft smile. His gaze falls on the flickering flame of a candle burning quietly in the darkness,