As they made their way through the city, Reno found himself stopping at every frozen body they encountered.
The sight was haunting—a tableau of despair frozen in time, faces contorted in fear and pain, hands reaching out in a last desperate attempt for salvation. Each figure seemed to whisper stories of their final moments.
For Reno, each halt felt like a bittersweet act of mercy.
While it was undoubtedly a good deed, it also served his purpose—every small remnant of silver energy that lingered in the timeglace encasing these poor souls was like a drop of nectar for his cultivation. The energy, although diluted, would consolidate and solidify his strength, providing him with a precious resource in this dire situation.
