Northern stood up, the vigor seeping
out of his body as he did so. He tried to walk but faltered in his steps.
At that moment, a wounded monster went wild, charging towards his direction.
With a cold, indifferent gaze, Northern turned, avoided its obvious attack, and cleanly swiped at it before completely turning.
The voice of both Ul and the system sounded so distant; the clangs and cries that bathed the battlefield sounded too foggy. Everything seemed so far away.
Sort of numb…
He closed his eyes and dismissed his clone.
Of course, regardless of how he felt, he still had to deal with the pain. But, this time, Northern could not even find the strength to groan as a crude fatigue invaded every tendon in his body.
He dropped to his knees, the Mortal Blade slipping out of his hands.
Somehow, the war went on without him.
So did the vicious creatures continue their slaughters.
