Shin's questions piled up with no answers, swirling in his head as his mana dropped lower with every second, now barely holding at 20MP. The throbbing headache didn't help. Paired with the constant mana loss, it was only a matter of time before he collapsed into unconsciousness, helpless as his body gave in. Slumped beneath his sheets, sweat clinging to his skin, he was a prince of power rendered nothing more than a fragile shell.
His weapons lay beside the bed like loyal hounds awaiting orders—the twin hooking daggers, still stained with blood, and the scavenged rifle, freshly claimed from the corpse of Leonel's comrade.
Near him, the tension in the air was thick enough to choke on. His two servants kept silent vigil, fear etched deep into their eyes.
