What Kael saw inside made him stop for a moment.
His heart skipped a beat. He felt something stir deep inside—like a forgotten piece of himself had suddenly come back to life.
Right in front of him were neatly folded clothes. Old military uniforms, which are worn and torn, have been roughly patched up, but are clean.
Not a single speck of dust. A broken sword rested gently beside them, the edges chipped and the hilt faded, but it was carefully placed, like it meant everything.
Accompanied with we're hats, some clothes, and a few miscellaneous things. Unlike Kael, who had a stupefied expression, Alvera's expression froze.
Despite not trying to show it, her expression couldn't help but scream.
'What is this trash?'
Of all things, she had thought of, she never imagined the room, which was considered sacred, to contain such rags.
She then saw Kael, whose eyes moved up.
A large picture hung above the display.
