Bam!
Jerouch's body fell into the pond heavily, splashing blood everywhere, and his black robe getting soaked in blood.
He grabbed his throat with his two hands as he felt the feeling of suffocation wear off gradually.
His heart, though, was still pounding against his ribs with intense force, making his chest rise and fall as he gasped for breath.
He was sitting inside the pond with his legs spread forward, and his two hands slightly angled behind his shoulder as they supported his weight.
His head was bent, making his gaze fall directly on his thigh.
It had been more than an hour since the mysterious young man left, yet, Jerouch was stuck in this position.
'Weak.'
'A pathetic figure like you has no place in this world.'
'Your Grimoire is not bad, too bad it fell into the hand of a trash like you.'
All the things that the young man said to him kept ringing in his head as negativities began to cloud his rationale.
