Several hours later, Leon and Rosvisser’s carriage arrived at the desolate ruins of the Black Moon Dragon Clan. Just as Mevis had described, the area was a shadow of its former glory, long since consumed by the ravages of war.

Crumbling buildings and broken palaces littered the barren landscape. Overgrown brush and weeds stretched across every corner, while small dangerous creatures darted among the ruins, scavenging for food.

The streets and homes, though overrun by nature, still hinted at their original grandeur. The remnants of stone pathways and intricate carvings told the story of a once-thriving civilization.

Leon and Rosvisser walked through the remnants of the clan’s territory, their expressions heavy with thought.

“We should recap what we know so far about Mevis and the peculiarities surrounding her,” Rosvisser said, her voice calm but deliberate.

“Let’s start from the beginning. The first time we met Mevis was in Sky City, correct?”

Leon nodded. “Yes. At the time, we were preoccupied with the Oran incident, so we didn’t pay much attention to her. It wasn’t until the second encounter that I started to notice her... aura, I guess you’d call it. That inexplicable sense of familiarity.”