Blanche stood frozen in place, stunned by the scene before her. Fort and Francis, however, rushed forward without thinking.
But someone was even faster—Alan.
As Old Gayle's mangled body slowly descended, Alan reached out with his hands—not particularly large or broad—and gently caught him from behind, easing him down to the ground.
Francis's eyes instantly turned red. The usual mischief in his face vanished as he dropped to his knees, voice trembling with grief. "Old drunkard… open your eyes and look at me, dammit!"
"Aren't you a Legendary Mage? Didn't you boast about being number one under the heavens?! How the hell did you end up like this?!"
Fort clenched his fists, the metallic glow on his body gleaming more fiercely than ever before—and even showing signs of evolving into silver.
Alan said nothing. He simply stared at the terrifying wounds riddling Old Gayle's body. His heart felt as if someone had torn a piece of it away.
