Return

The withered arm lay atop a little pond of blood, with the sword still in its gripless dead hand.

If it wasn't because of that, Hans might've thought it was all just a dream.

He felt that way because what he witnessed was simply… outrageous… Elijah's whole arm had been sliced off his body, and the man had done it himself, without a single hint of doubt or fear of the pain.

And then… that excruciating process of regeneration… it wasn't like anything he had ever seen before.

Elijah was catching his breath as his sweat was staining his clothes and the white sheets.

In the silent room, even the man's heavy breathing seemed loud, and Hans couldn't help but stand there dumbfounded.

"Pant… pant…

Pant…

Well…

pant…

What are you waiting for?… Take it"

Hans finally moved, his eyes still fixed on the pained man as he crouched slightly to reach the floor with his hand and pick up the sword.