No one knew how much time had passed.
It felt like countless years, and yet only a fleeting moment.
When Alan finally came back to his senses, the woman in the wedding dress was smiling warmly at him.
He glanced to her side—empty.
The image of Nicolas she had painted was now gone.
Just as Alan was about to speak, the woman raised her hand, and a staff of emerald green light appeared in her palm, surrounded by an intense concentration of magical energy.
Alan immediately recognized it—it was the same staff that had floated above the castle gates!
As she held it in her palm, her fingers gently caressed its surface, as if stroking the skin of a beloved.
"This staff was forged by the two of us together long ago," she said softly. "Though it's been worn down by the passage of time and no longer at its peak, it's still a tier-platinum staff, beyond the level of tier-gold. It should be of some help to you."
With that, she handed the staff to Alan.
