The unprecedented strength had allowed the Prince to experience the feeling of being a true powerhouse; yet that sensation arrived quickly and vanished just as swiftly.
The emptiness that followed the sudden disappearance of his strength left the Prince trembling with fear.
Perhaps due to the corruption of the Essence of the Evil God, the Prince displayed an astonishing life force; even now, when he no longer retained the shape of a human but was just a rotten lump of flesh with a twisted face, he was still alive.
But for the Prince, living was worse than death.
At least if he had died cleanly, he wouldn't have had to let others witness his clown-like appearance.
Ragged, filthy, vile... It was truly sad that the Prince of the mighty Oville Empire had fallen to such a state.
He kept begging, hoping that the presence would not leave him, would not abandon him...
Wozworth furrowed his brow, seemingly finding his son too embarrassing to bear: "Shut your mouth, you unfilial son..."
