A black windbreaker wrapped his body, looking coldly into the distance.
Behind you is a bloody wasteland. In this dark abyss, where else can you look?
The desire to kill gradually swallowed up the remaining clarity in his eyes, and the entanglement of ghostly energy gradually eroded the thin body.
Who do you pick up the sword for? Why is the surging power flowing? Are the cold eyes caused by the wind and sand?
Is it wrong to protect your precious things?
If so, let me get it right.
Are all exchanges of things equivalent?
Then I am willing to fall into this abyss and live forever with my sins!
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
