Ned's hair stood behind his neck. He was concerned and marveled at the same time of exactly what the Hunter did to him. He felt like he was the smallest of all prey treated at the corner. Yet, he felt marvelous from the inside, as if he was provoked by an unknown force down to the very last thread of his life. The feeling of something bending his very existence was almost the same feeling as what Edwin did to him right after he stabbed his Master. The pressure was identical coming from an entirely different source. And it was the only thing that held Ned together. The face of the culprit. Must be an illusion, perhaps some kind of control magic? Ned shook his head as he muttered Edwin's name mentally.
You're not Edwin. You're not Edwin. The same exact words he kept on repeating inside his head made his blood boil in anger but at the same time controlled his consciousness. He felt vomiting but held the urge to do so.
