Yet despite the agony, Snow had not hesitated. He had taken it all—for Frey.
Shaking, he staggered back to his feet, a hollow, blood-stained smile tugging at his lips.
"We're dying, Frey… Sorry, but I don't think there's a way out of this. Hahaha…" Snow laughed weakly, lifting Frey once more, forcing his body to move, Void Stepping again into the distance.
"There's no point. We can't leave the island," Frey said with a faint, almost mocking smile, unconcerned with the agony ripping him apart.
He was right. Even if Snow Void Stepped to the farthest reaches, he'd only meet the island's edge. Escape was impossible.
"I know… but I'd rather try than just sit here waiting for death."
Carrying Frey over his shoulder, Snow pressed on. But the oppressive aura at his back made it clear—running would never be enough.
