<Hey, girl, about that Favie girl...>

On the way back after receiving the mace from Favie, just after leaving the church, the old man cautiously spoke up.

‘What about her?’

<She seems to be going through a lot of turmoil.>

‘Favie?'

I tilted my head in confusion at his words.

It made no sense because the Favie I knew was like a mighty tree.

A person as steadfast as a tree that wouldn’t fall no matter how fierce the storm.

A person who could shelter everyone under her vast shade.

Even if a few roots were to rot, she would …