"Desolate..."
After three breaths passed, the power of the mental tide dissipated. Enveloped in this power, the Yaksha Monarch, who had suffered torment, sensed it immediately. His body, which had been fleeing rapidly, suddenly stopped, turned around, and let out a fierce howl...
At this moment, his eyes burst with fierce light, his blood-soaked body still wrapped in purple-golden delicate flesh sprouts like tendrils.
These sprouts twisted madly, repairing some damaged organs and bones from inside out, followed by flesh. Finally, even the black-golden scale armor was fully restored.
The entire process took only a dozen breaths.
A dozen breaths ago, he had almost been corroded into a skeleton by the mental tide. Yet now, he's restored to his previous condition, although his aura was clearly much weaker than before, evidently showing the sign of vitality greatly damaged despite the recovery...
