Chapter 769 - Why.

A pillar of golden light descended from the skies and seemed to blind the entirety of the battlefield.

Normand's roars shook the Capital, his conviction splitting the clouds in the sky apart and causing a fissure that divided the two opposing forces.

When he reappeared, it seemed as though he had been completely reformed. His body was flooded with a white gold light, making it look as though he was wearing robes. His golden hair had been completely cleansed and his emerald eyes shone like two true gems. As though his form had become ethereal, he seemed as light as a wisp of smoke and as fleeting as a fragrance in the wind.

Then, he moved.

Leonel's pupils constricted. He circulated [Golden Feather Step], causing two massive wings to appear toward his back. Their white gold appearance was no less dazzling, especially as each feather became more and more defined.

However, they had hardly formed when Normand had already appeared before him. It was as though it had only taken him a single flicker, a small twitch of the muscle, a minute intention, for him to suddenly cross a distance of hundreds of meters.

Like a streaking light, his sword struck forward, its speed so fast and its pattern so all encompassing that a singular thin blade almost formed a curtain all to its own.

Leonel frowned. '[Grand Bell Construct].'

DING! DING! DING! DING!

before Leonel, his casting speed having reached ungodly levels. However, before he could take advantage

blink of an eye, Normand's sword lights doubled. In an instant, [Grand Bell Construct]'s defensive limit was reached and a rain of piercing swords

a single flap of his enormous semi-illusory wings taking him

seemed to take not a single ounce of effort to

Sight could see Normand's face almost as clearly as

drew blood, causing crimson to drip down his chin and be whipped away by

Leonel's jaw set.

not want to kill this man. Anyone with even the slightest shred of sympathy wouldn't want to do such

through a mountain of corpses to save this man he had only just met today. It was a silly, meaningless nicety, especially

logic told him a single life wasn't worth how many he would sacrifice by taking such a route. Wasn't that how he had dictated his life until this point? The reason he hated killing so much was because he didn't feel that his own life was worth any

believe that. Then, on the other, feel so

of a wounded beast. His shout spread throughout the

all. The blood that fell from his eyes, how his bulging thighs tore streaks of flesh away from his legs… He could even sense his heart pumping past

going all out. He was going beyond his means for just one

To kill Leonel.

entire battlefield. Leonel could no longer

feet or the shouts of his men. He

eyes, the flow of

Why did every choice he had to make come with such a dull pain? Why did he live in

his thinking speed, even Normand's blazing speed seemed as slow to

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