Verana watched Asura's figure from the distance. She saw scenes of Asura devouring the man once revered as the greatest swordsman, with skills on par with those of the sword saintess.
However, she felt no disgust or doubts in his state.
From the moment she felt his magic and aura distort upon returning from the East, Verana knew something had happened. She would never judge Asura. Her only worries were whether she might lose him once again.
'I do not understand why my Asura suffers. However, I can feel nothing but pain from that heavy, dark aura that surrounds him.'
Her eyes followed Asura, who stood in silence.
The victory of Siegfried didn't seem to mean anything to him. Instead, he sat alone on a large rock, letting the wind blow through his long raven hair as if waiting for something.
