Present Time - The Underworld
Every breath was excruciating.
As if it wasn't cruel enough that he was already bleeding out from his wounds… Even the last breaths of his existence had to be painful.
Hugh trembled as he laid limply on the cold jagged grounds of his Master's Shadow Gardens. The dampness of the surface seeped through his clothes, sending sharp chills through his broken body.
He shivered violently, unsure whether he was freezing from the frigid atmosphere, or perhaps his temperature had truly dipped to a point of no return, due to the loss of blood.
Yet his wounds still burned him, like the Fire Rivers in Hell coursing through his veins, incinerating his soul. The damage from the Aurora Sword lived up to its name indeed.
It was the bitterness of the fact that pushed him to cling to the remaining scraps of his life. Falling to the Sky God's sword…
How humiliating…
He would never…
