Taking large breaths, Daneel slowly rose up from the ground using one hand while he used the other to check whether there was any remnant blood on his face.
His skin was a pale white, as if he had just had all of his blood drained out of him.
Wiping away the blood on his teeth using the sleeve of his red robe, he hobbled to the throne before sitting on it, using its back for support.
Although he seemed very pathetic right now, his eyes were shining with the glorious light of triumph.
This had definitely been the closest shave of his life yet, and when he thought back to just how even a small mistake would definitely have lead to his death, he couldn't help but shudder.
Still, the smile didn't leave his face.
When he remembered the way in which he had panicked, he actually scolded himself.
From all he had been through, it should not have been that a mere face-off with death caused such fear to attack him.
How many dire situations had he gotten out of using his wit and skill?
