The central country where the great hole of emptiness was drilled.

To the west, there existed a vast land covered with forests.

The land overflowing with trees is ruled by Hakuri, a nation of the Purple-Eyed Gods who worship the god of thunder, Gigilo.

Most of the people are engaged in forestry and paper manufacturing, but they are also famous for making furniture and musical instruments.

It is also known for its distilled spirits and mushrooms.

But the most renowned of the country's gifts from the bounty of its lush forests is the presence of the court judges who are in charge of the courts throughout the country.

Din, the capital of Jingu, is located southeast of Hakuri.

The city is built on a hierarchical structure with giant trees as its foundation, and the flow of people to and from the city never stops, thanks in part to its location near the mouth of the Shirahami River, which is well watered.

When you step into the huge city, you will inevitably see the towering white spire in the center of the city.

The name of the tower, which is said to resemble the thunderbolt of the God of Thunder, is the Temple of the Great Court of Justice.

It is said that the rulings made here are the closest to the judgment of God.

In a room near the top floor sat a man called the pope.

He was about fifty years old.

Atop his short-cropped golden hair shines a crown lined with lightning bolts.

His well-proportioned body was wrapped in white vestments and a purple fur cloak.

The man sitting at the table, sorting through his letters, suddenly notices a letter.

Sealed in wax was the profile of a wolf.

It is a sign of urgent news.

He cuts it open with a letter knife and inspects the contents.

The sender is Zazam.

The man stares at the secret letter from the person who is responsible for the treetops in the border town with an intelligent gaze.

Then, he finishes reading the letter and lightly lifts it up, holding it between his fingers.

Snap.

Sparks fly from the space between his thumb and middle finger as they rub against each other.

Immediately, the purple lightning shoots out, leaping onto the paper and burrowing through the blackened hole.

The man speaks quietly, staring at the letter that is lost in his hand.

"............ another candidate for the priestess of a very young beast."

A few days before that.

A few days earlier, far to the north, a group of people had received interesting news.

Stora, a large country located in the north of the central region, is a large ice field with half of its land covered with ice and snow.

It is an extremely cold region with scarce resources, but the inhabitants have the wisdom to take advantage of the cold.

The lower the temperature, the more suitable it is for making magical stone tools.

The top floor of the building called the research tower.

In the center of the semicircular room, encased in thick glass, floats a large crystal.

Surrounding it were several figures in gray robes.

They are staring at the crystalline body, trying to read the rare glints it gives off. 

It is said that the fastest means of communication in this world is the flying bird mail of the Suiba trading temple.

However, this is not true.

Already the long gray ears of the Suiba have been secretly creating a communication system that connects the world.

They have invented a means of connecting with distant places by using the reflection of light through a repeater called an ice mirror.

The weather conditions are still very unpredictable, and it is still difficult to convey long sentences and detailed nuances.

Suddenly, one of the people peering into the mirror lifts a pen and begins to scribble down a few words.

"Dadan...... border town............ children...... mixed tree... ...viable ...... with confirmation."

"Oh, that's interesting."

"Yes, it's very rare. Let's send it to the Council of Wise Men right away.

The words written down, rewritten into a sentence, are handed to one of the gray-robed men.

At the end of the document, the name Aurindor appears in the sender's column.