Within the circular hall on the first floor of the high tower, the warhorse, exhausted to the core, collapsed onto the ground, its ears drooping forward, shaking its head with a whimper.
Its eyes, full of intelligence, seemed to have resolved to be stubborn, deciding to remain lying down no matter how its master tugged on the reins.
This noble warhorse that had been worked to the bone had indeed fulfilled its duty.
However, Leon simply stepped aside and watched as Miss Lola lightly touched the horse's drooping head—brilliant demon runes spread like a circuit diagram across the glossy black skin of the horse in an instant.
The warhorse convulsed, steam visible to the naked eye rose from its body, and its muscles swelled slightly. The horse that had been lying on the ground suddenly sprang up as if injected with adrenaline.
