— 15 Years Later, In the Province of Dymon's Cradle —
"Senior Brother Knox, the Master is calling for you."
A quiet voice carried through the wide, open halls of a temple. Within that temple were several figures garbed in the clothes of a monk.
One of the figures was an exceptionally handsome young man with the bearing of a peerless sword expert. He turned his head up to look at the one speaking to him; a cold golden gleam emerged as he slowly rose to his feet.
"Very well," said Knox, his strides brisk and fleeting as he left through the large front doors of the temple. "If Master requests my presence, then I'll naturally go."
The one who spoke to him — also a monk — helplessly smiled. Even now, he wondered why it was that his Senior Brother was akin to an emotionless slab of ice. Never had he seen him do much more than frown.
"Senior Brother is so strong though…"
