"Hah… Hah… Hah… Damn it. Even after all these days, the wound still won't close."
Twenty kilometers from the Forest of Eternal Silence, a black-cloaked man with a disheveled appearance limped forward.
His face was actually quite handsome, but scratches on his cheeks and forehead had marred his looks.
His skin was pale, drained of color—as if he had lost a significant amount of blood. Wounds on his stomach, chest, and waist continued to ooze blackish-red blood that refused to stop.
The pain was excruciating, but he gritted his teeth and endured it.
That man was Guren—the one Zelda had thoroughly defeated not long ago.
At first, he believed the Evil God's consciousness would be enough to defeat Leon and annihilate the Elven race—but that belief had proven foolish.
Leon—that damn man—had turned out to be far stronger than he ever imagined.
After the war in the Desert of Chaos, his power had grown exponentially.
