Then whose hands will death come from?
Recalling a few female colleagues who just started to get a bit of affection but died during actions... Hmm? Can't remember their faces anymore, so let's think about the people around...
Red Falcon seemed to think of someone, but before he could say anything stupid, he gradually fell silent.
...
Under the intense fighting, the Holy Silver coating the Nail Sword was almost worn off, and the blade made of Pine Iron was now covered with notches and cracks.
Who knows how many times he repeated it, Lorenzo thrust out the blade, killing a warrior, and slowly turned his head, seeing more warriors stepping over corpses, walking towards him.
They were endless, each wearing that dark mask; they seemed to each be Lawrence, and yet not at the same time.
"Truly insane... Maybe you really can do it, Lawrence."
Lorenzo's emotions were complex, finally saying with a hint of respect.
