When a person is killed, they die.
Life is precious because it only comes once.
The vilest of sinners can only be killed once, and the purest of souls do not get the chance to be resurrected.
Mikana had died, vanished without a trace along with everyone else from the Holy City, and what remained here was merely a monster crafted in her likeness. So, it didn't matter if she was killed, it was just killing—
"..."
The urge to vomit and the acidity surged up his throat, and Roland barely managed to swallow back the bitterness that filled his mouth, becoming more acrid as the sound of nails scraping against steel grew louder.
From the other side of the squeaking ceiling, something with the same face as that gentle girl was there.
That young mother, like an elder sister, had once soothed the wounds in Roland's heart. Yet, something with the same face and delicate arms was now using its bare hands to tear and scrape at steel to kill Roland.
"Ha... Ha... Ha..."
