...
"Ah! Ah! Ah!"
In the almost ruined underground, Red Falcon screamed while fiercely smashing the demon corpses with his folding blade, breaking their bones and twisting the flesh into bloody pulp.
He was already exhausted, yet he continued to roar, venting his anger.
Gradually, he was completely out of strength, throwing his bent folding blade aside. He turned his head and asked Galahad, who was still dealing with the demon corpses.
"So, is this it?"
Red Falcon asked weakly.
For him, this was a terrible day, his mood fluctuating constantly, and his life hanging in the balance between life and death.
This feeling was worse than facing death itself. Faced with death, Red Falcon could at least face it calmly, but it gave him a sliver of hope, leading him to struggle.
"It should be over."
Galahad gasped. As a Returnee, his body was deeply eroded, and high-intensity exercise was quite a burden for him.
"You should have heard it too, right? That screeching from the soul."
