Footsteps approached through the blood-soaked battlefield.
Not hurried or cautious. Just steady, deliberate steps that suggested whoever was walking had all the time in the world.
Jack remained motionless, his cheek pressed against the warm pool of demon blood.
Every muscle in his body screamed in protest at the thought of movement.
His stats were reduced by eighty percent, leaving him weaker than he'd been when the dragons attacked.
He could barely keep his eyes open, let alone defend himself.
The footsteps stopped beside him.
"You look absolutely dreadful," S's voice said from above, carrying that same pleasant tone he'd used while watching Jack slaughter the demons.
"Though I suppose that's to be expected after such a... spirited performance."
Jack managed a weak grunt. It was all the response he could muster.
S crouched down, his immaculate black suit somehow still pristine despite the carnage surrounding them.
