Ozul made his way towards his bedroom. Too many things had happened over the course of only a few days. He needed some time alone for his thoughts.
Not to mention, he had yet to test out his improvements after he had obtained his left arm.
"Only one remains..." he muttered as he looked at his lifeless prosthetic arm.
He was somewhere around 35 years old, as far as he could recall, but after he had turned 20, there were no visible signs of him aging whatsoever.
Although it was something similar to the Mages who had their aging slowed down the higher their rank was, Ozul understood that his condition was different.
He didn't have Mana, and he knew for a fact that the darkness his body absorbed didn't do anything except for keeping him alive without the need of consuming food. But he wasn't sure about the Ball of Purity.
