Rakumtatak's grin widened as he turned over, leaning against the balcony ledge, his gaze fixed on the distant cities. He snorted a laugh, the amusement apparent in his eyes. "Oh, it was rich, Torga."
Lyon, still puzzled, furrowed his brows. "What are you talking about?"
"On that day, I was secluding myself," Rakumtatak's gaze turned vacant, his mind seemingly transported back to the events in Sixth Hell. "I knew of your death," he continued. "That day, I heard disturbances in Sixth Hell, as if a warrior seeping with killing intent was rushing toward Purgatory, the source of anti-mana. No phantom could hide that exploding will to kill," he added, furrowing his brows in contemplation.
Lyon's eyes widened in realization. The pieces started to come together, forming a mosaic of intrigue and danger. "Liu... he went to Purgatory after hearing about my death?" Lyon muttered, the gravity of the situation sinking in.
