The witch's arm was very white and beautiful.
Despite being such a powerful woman, her wrists were so slender, creating a somewhat heart-stirring contrast.
It seemed she noticed Lynn's strange gaze, for the Doomsday Witch's eyes suddenly turned extremely cold, "What are you thinking?"
"Cough cough, nothing."
Lynn averted his gaze, focusing on the scar.
It was an odd-looking wound, terribly uneven, as if it were a crack produced by the shattering of space.
The edges of the scar glowed faintly red, revealing the witch's own efforts to heal herself.
But each time it healed a little, the scar would fracture again, like a shattered mirror.
The cycle repeated endlessly, never fully healing.
Moreover, the interior of the wound wasn't the bloody mess that Lynn had expected, but was instead a pitch-black base.
Amidst the darkness, there were also faint dots of starlight, as if it led to a vast and boundless universe.