This particular Siren was very impatient. Without wasting time, it came straight for me: maybe living flesh tasted much better.
I couldn't do anything to it, with the stick. I couldn't even block. All I could do was, dodge. If the stick broke down, all my hopes would do down as well. But dodging wasn't easy either. Although it was slower than an ordinary Siren, it was definitely not slow when it came to cleaving everything in sight.
All this time I was under the impression that undead only feasted upon the living because they were jealous of the living, but in the end, they too felt hunger. Then how were they different from ordinary humans eating other living things to survive? What is up with this world?
As I dodged more and more, I got scratches all over my body. The herbs were falling off one by one, leaving my wounds exposed. I was in a very bad situation. But there weren't any signs of magic. What was magic anyway?
