The Immortal Has a Guardian Spirit - Denpi

Chapter 8: Messenger of Death (8)

He must have expected Raven to dodge without difficulty, and just as he was able to dodge by ducking his head, Dan rushed forward and pushed him.

But is such a shallow figure applicable to someone who has served on active duty for about 150 years?

Raven, who had turned around and spilled the platform just by stepping out a little, looked down at him with indifferent eyes.

"Sorry."

...A dry, falling apple is even more cruel.

Isn't he a weak magician who only relies on a guardian spirit? Raven didn't know where the precarious bleeding body had gone, but Raven moved his hand, ignoring Dan who was hastily hanging himself. Even though the skin scratched by Dan's rough nails was bleeding red, he didn't care.

─Sigh.

A sound more strange than ever rang out.

"......─."

Silence fell.

As if time had stopped, Dan, who had been frozen, hurriedly approached the woman. Because he couldn't walk normally on his own two feet, he came closer as if crawling, holding the limp body in his arms. The arm that was holding his sister trembled.

Dan couldn't understand this situation.

'......Why.'

He slowly caressed her cheek, but instead of receiving a response, her head tilted to the side. Even when he put his hand under her nose, there was no reaction from any living, breathing creature.

'Why.'

Why did things happen like this?

He promised to help. So, he suppressed his frustrated emotions, and even silently waited for the conversation with the guardian spirit to end, but his mouth fell open at the hard-to-accept truth.

"...──."

But all that came out was a faint wind sound that no one could hear.

...Why is he so desperate? Isn't it to save his sister?

Even when his throat was cracked and his vocal cords were damaged, and even when he was faced with a monster with his tongue cut out, didn't he have reason to fight back and persevere? for the sake of his remaining blood relatives?

Dark eyes lost focus and stared into space. Then he looked down at his sister again as he felt the weight on his arm.

'...It wasn't a dream.'

Yes, this is reality. It wasn't a dream, it would have been better if it had been, but the weight of her limp body made me realize the truth.

His tightly closed mouth opened again and began to let out a silent scream. The eyes were already immersed in hopelessness, wavering and full of despair.

"───!"

He's frustrated because this neck can't even make a sound or cry. He feels like he's about to get angry with himself for choosing the wrong person and asking for help. He's angry because he feels angry and frustrated, but the target of this anger is himself.

He lifted his shaking hand and placed it on his neck.

Sharp nails began to scratch at the scar. He didn't stop even though the flesh was falling from the tips of his fingernails and blood was staining him red.

He didn't even feel pain, perhaps because his sense of pain was numbed by the overwhelming emotions.

Scratch. Scratch.