When the illusion shattered, Don Quixote, who was half-kneeling before Aiwass, did not shatter with it.
In the pitch-black, lightless environment, transparent white ripples appeared around Don Quixote.
He lifted his head, gazing at Aiwass.
His long black hair draped messily like seaweed, and his emerald green eyes resembled a wolf's pupils.
Compared to the original "Balin Knight," he had become much leaner. His face, which had a three or four-tenths resemblance to Yulia, didn't look too handsome because of his thinness but instead had a sharp, cold edge like that of a serial killer.
"O great savior... Your loyal Knight has finally awaited your arrival."
Don Quixote's voice was fervent and mad, yet his eyes appeared rational and sorrowful.
For a moment, it was impossible to discern which was the real him... or whether this madness was just a pretense.
"...Don Quixote..."
