Silvanus couldn't help but marvel at Drake's strength once again. Even though he had already fought before, had his wings torn off, endured a double curse, lost so much blood that his face had turned deathly pale like never before, he could still run back and forth, daring to confront monsters. And now, he still had enough strength to shake Silvanus violently, demanding answers in fury.
Sorry, but I'm not a Prophet.
Silvanus raised his hand, pressed it against the hand gripping his shoulder, and forcibly removed it.
Drake was still scowling at him, his whole face filled with anger and stubbornness.
Silvanus said flatly, without emotion, "I have no reason to explain anything to you. No one will die right now—you should be thanking me."
"Ha." Drake seemed so angry that he laughed.
It shouldn't be like this, it shouldn't be like this!
But if not like this, then how should it be?
No one could answer that question buried deep within Drake's heart.
