The weather in Swimming City was still considered warm.
But suddenly, the temperature plummeted dramatically!
Lord Ghost Seven's subordinates instinctively hugged themselves, unable to suppress their shivering.
It was too cold.
They didn't understand why the weather, perfectly normal a moment ago, suddenly began to snow.
And under the feet of the man who used to be the chief steward of the Ghost Market, appeared blossoming ice flowers.
"Do you really intend to oppose me?" Ghost Seven squinted, his words carrying a hint of pity: "A true prominent figure should go with the flow. If one were to knowingly engage in the impossible, what value would there be beyond meaningless sacrifices?"
"I truly admire you. Although we haven't spent much time together, your character and skills have deeply impressed me."
Seemingly afraid that Elaenor Wood might refuse, Ghost Seven intended to appeal emotionally and reason logically.
The Undead, in the end, are few.
