Kestrel had truly felt the enemy's strength this time.
Once, she had been somewhat arrogant, thinking her psychic abilities were incredibly strong and unbeatable. She had never encountered a being with more psychic power than hers. But now, the enemy's psychic energy was terrifying.
Deep down, Kestrel knew that the body on the bed couldn't be Ren, yet the urgent situation caused her to move forward to check on him.
Above, a dim yellow light swung, and a cool, damp breeze came from outside. On a wooden couch lay someone whose hands were tightly bound and covered with broken black gloves. They seemed eerily familiar to Kestrel. Even the lines of the fingers and the way the muscles were tensed were the same as she remembered. Ren's pale wrists were tied to the railing, his long fingers clenched tightly into fists, straining the ropes that bound them as he struggled.
Kestrel instinctively stepped forward and saw Ren's face.