The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

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The rain poured down like a torrent.

The world that had been turned into a sea was rippling more and more ferociously.

The people gathered in Tochka gradually became restless.

"Aren't we going to starve to death here, stuck in this place?"

"What – there's still plenty of food, isn't there?"

"But what if this flood continues?"

"It's only supposed to last 150 days. We have enough food and more water, so it's okay."

"But it's already an ocean outside, and how do we know the flood will stop in 150 days?"

"Well, Don Quixote's eldest son is on his way to pick up the Armada, so that's why we're all waiting."

The rumors among the refugees weren't false.