On the other side, there was a man riding a mighty war horse with lush black fur and demonic armor that exuded a savage grey qi. By all metrics, he should have been emboldened and confident to cut Dyon down where he stood.
Yet… He was trembling in fear.
Unlike the previous Famine's, he didn't allow his balance scale to hover before him. Instead, he gripped onto it tightly, his eyes practically leaking with tears.
He clearly wanted no part of this battle, but some invisible power was forcing his hand. He had no choice.
"Are you going to attack? Or are you just going to stay there?"
Despite his appearance, Dyon's voice hadn't lost its strength. It might have been a bit hoarse, but the underlying power hadn't faded at all.
"If you really are just going to stand there, do you mind handing over your satiation qi? I'm in quite a sorry state as you can see."
