But Prince was unmoving. He was…dead.
Old Master Lenort smirked at this. "Oh…he's dead. That was quite fast. But I suppose I did do a number on him." He burst into laughter, chortling to his heart's content.
Draven's body shook, his head rising.
"Prince…? Avelina…?" he called, but none of them answered him. Avelina, on the other hand, seemed to have lost consciousness.
Draven's tone was utterly devoid of emotion. There was no plea, no heartbreak, but just emptiness in his tone. He turned his head in the direction Old Master Lenort stood.
"You killed them," he mumbled.
Old Master Lenort gave the nastiest smile. "Yes, I did. Are you going to fight?" he asked, taunting him with a mirth in his voice.
No response came from Draven. He rather knelt there, uttering not even a single word.
