The tide had been turned against Nicholas. The man, now wounded again, had an unpleasant expression.
He tried to pull out the arrow, which had pierced through his left arm and left shoulder. But the wound on his right affected his right hand, and he failed to pull out the arrow through his repeated tries and grunts.
Nicholas could only sigh softly. He moaned in pain as he ended his sixth attempt to pull out the arrow.
"How did you hit me?"
The Star Killer stared indignantly at the unremarkable black crossbow. He then looked furiously at the arrow that nailed him to the rock wall.
"What in the world is that weapon's ability?"
Monty, who was also barely hanging on to life, laid weakly on the ground. The badly burnt man arduously extended his hand to support himself against the rock and tried to sit up. He quietly recovered his strength.
The Raven of Death snorted softly and scornfully.
"There's no need for me to tell you this."
