Old White touched his neck.
Am I still alive?
What a life I have!
He instinctively wanted to pick up his Double-Bladed War Axe, which had accompanied him day and night, but was surprised to find that his hand seemed to pass right through the handle, as though it were insubstantial.
"Weren't you always curious about what the world after death is like?"
A cold voice suddenly echoed in his ear.
"Who...who's speaking, is it Miss Furin?"
Old White remembered when Furinjira broadcast her voice to their group earlier.
"It's me, Prajna."
"Miss...Miss Prajna, do you mean that I'm already dead?"
Old White instinctively touched his neck again, and found it was still intact. Then he realized, after taking a slap from a Centurion-level figure, it was impossible not to sustain any injury.
His Talent was ordinary, and it was only in his later years, through rich experience, that he was barely promoted to Corner by Lord Leon. It was impossible for him to have such skills.
