But now, it seemed more like Hannah was single-handedly overwhelming him.

When a genius began to doubt himself, he entered a vicious cycle.

He couldn’t understand.

So he started to obsessively study all kinds of mech combat knowledge, forcing himself to train over and over late into the night.

Just then, Hannah came to tell him, "In the next match, I will lose to you."

"Why?" Wayne Lane asked her, "Do you pity me?"

Hannah didn’t want to explain, she just said, "No."

"Hannah!" Wayne clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and for the first time lost control like this, each word seething with his rage, "I don’t need your pity."

Young Wayne had a strong sense of pride and couldn’t tolerate anyone’s sympathy or pity.

And the young Hannah also had her pride.

She never spoke her mind to outsiders.

So they had their first argument.

It was like two fiery planets colliding violently.

Neither wanted to back down first.

So neither showed up to the match two days later.

...

"What happened after that?" Jay Brown grew curious.

Actually, the old principal didn’t know much about those stories, they were just gossip among the students which he listened to in his free time.

He couldn’t explain the specifics.

After considering, the principal said, "Later, people in the academy said the two didn’t get along and their love turned to hate."

Jay Brown was dumbfounded.

He found his curiosity about Hannah growing.

This curiosity was no longer based on her strong mech control abilities, but on her as a person.

Her whole being.

He was eager to know more about Hannah’s story, but the principal urged him to go back.

Jay couldn’t stay any longer, he could only suppress the emotions swirling inside him and leave.

After everyone left, the principal looked up at the sky again.

Stroking his beard and sighing, "It’s been so long, I didn’t expect that people would still be curious about that girl. Such a pity, such a pity!"

What a pity about Hannah’s ending a hundred years ago.

Had she not been bound by identity, she could have had much more.

Who could have imagined that one day people would drive to death the hero they praised and chased?

Just as Hannah said, people are fickle.

*

Crossing Mount Walters, they reached beyond the border line.

Here, there was no ice and snow, only the boundless yellow sand.

As if it were the same region, yet in different seasons.

One side winter, the other summer.

Gregory Lawrence, who had just been complaining about the cold, was now hot enough to take off his jacket.

Although the snowy mountains were not far behind, they could feel the rolling heatwaves from the desert.

"This damn weather," Gregory Lawrence muttered as he took off another layer of clothing.

Eventually, he was down to just a short-sleeved shirt.

Meanwhile, solitude had put his black robe back on the moment they crossed the snowy mountains.

Somehow, he had found one identical to the one torn by the black Jiao earlier.

Hannah was looking at Arnold Simmons.

He was still holding that hand-drawn map, though it was now folded up.

After passing Mount Walters, that map was no longer of any use.

Next, they had to replan their route.

The route to the Lost Realm.

But before that, they needed to get a starship.

On this note, they all turned to look at Gregory Lawrence, who was wringing water out of his socks.

He had gotten quite snowy when they crossed the mountains earlier.