Villain Ch 1841. You Still Want to Fight Him
Allen tilted his head, grin widening, crimson eyes glowing with that psychotic glint Elio remembered. The same glint from that massacre.
Then his hand shot out, crushing Elio's throat.
Wings shredded, body broken, Elio dangled in the night sky, choking, blade slipping from his grip as blood bubbled in his throat.
Allen held him high against the stars, smirk cruel and perfect, crimson eyes gleaming with joy.
He didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
The grin was truth enough.
But the glint in his eyes—the psychotic, hungry glint—
It was Allen's.
Elio felt it pierce deeper than any blade could. That look was proof. His lungs burned as Allen's hand clamped around his throat, wings shredded and twitching uselessly. He kicked, thrashed, tried to pry free—but Allen didn't even tremble. The Emperor just held him up like a broken banner against the stars.
