Izparut stood in the firmament. Four other figures stood in the sky alongside Iz.
A red-haired youth shouldering a Giant Sword, and a green-haired girl holding a short, emerald-green staff.
As well as an incredibly stoic stone.
"Yo! An Zheng!"
"Can't sit still any longer, can you?" Izparut's expression was wild as he looked down condescendingly upon the Level 8 Mage.
An Zheng's body was now completely withered, his eyes and mouth nothing but hollow voids.
"Izparut."
"Heh, so are these the principles you're always going on about?"
Iz tossed back his long hair. His face held not a shred of apology, only a faint smile.
"My sincerest apologies, but I'm not the type to cling stubbornly to rules."
Iz pointed to his head. "As a Mage, the most important thing is learning to be flexible, An Zheng."
An Zheng was incredibly composed, but his tone betrayed no hint of anger or sorrow.
He simply said, "Flexible."
"All I see is a clown who won't stick to his own principles."
