"But…”

  “What I’m doing to the monsters who took my friend from me is still not enough.”

  He added softly with a smile.

  “Not on my body…”

  “But the ones who left a scar on my heart that will never heal—killing them isn’t enough.”

  The smile on his face grew even more demonic, more terrifying.

  Time passed like a shot arrow, and before he knew it, it was evening again. Subedei sat as if he had been impatiently waiting for night to fall.

  As the fog began to gather from nowhere and thicken, the devilish whispers followed. Watching all this, Subedei slowly rose to his feet and, gripping his spear tightly, walked forward.

  Within the fog ahead of him, several large dark shadows could be seen flying toward him.

  Subedei didn’t care. He simply stood there quietly, waiting for the Whispering Spirits to arrive.

  But those dark shapes kept multiplying.

  At first there had been only one or two. Within seconds, they became hundreds.

  The number continued to increase without stopping, forming an overwhelming swarm of shadows rushing toward him.

  From afar, countless Whispering Spirits flew in his direction. The closer they came, the clearer and louder the devilish whispers became.

  Seeing their growing numbers, a crazed smile spread across Subedei’s face.

  “Wonderful. I was waiting for you. I didn’t think you’d come this quickly.”

  He muttered softly to himself, then immediately raised his spear and charged forward, activating his skill as he ran.

  [Your body and weapon are covered in mana. Strength increased by 20%]

  Subedei ignored the notification and plunged into the mass of Whispering Spirits, beginning to slaughter them.

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  They surrounded him, releasing deafening, devil-like whispers.

  [You have killed “Whispering Spirit”]

  He paid no attention to it and simply continued killing.

  His spear severed their heads and pierced through two or three at a time. Some he split cleanly down the middle, watching them fade into the air.

  Subedei never once stopped swinging or thrusting his spear.

  At this moment, no one could tell whether he was fighting out of pure rage or because he had fallen in love with battle itself.

  Every attack he made killed a Whispering Spirit.

  He swung and thrust his spear everywhere without hesitation. He attacked only to kill—and then to kill again.

  Before long, his ears began to burn with pain, and something warm started flowing down from them.

  Subedei ignored it and kept charging as if it had nothing to do with him.

  With every Whispering Spirit he killed, it seemed as though they didn’t decrease but instead multiplied.

  He didn’t care. He kept fighting. Kept attacking.

  Soon he began to gasp for breath. Blood flowed from his mouth, nose, and eyes.

  His face was drenched in blood, yet he did not stop.

  The night was unbearably long.

  Subedei continued attacking, gasping for air. By now, each of his strikes had become slower and weaker.

  But they were still enough to kill the Whispering Spirits.

  His eyes began to close.

  Every movement he made looked as though he might collapse at any moment.

  He didn’t care. He bit his tongue to force himself awake.

  Eventually, his mana ran dry, and he could barely swing his spear.

  He could no longer properly kill the Whispering Spirits—his attacks merely passed through them—yet he kept slashing and thrusting.

  But he refused to fall.

  He wanted to kill every single Whispering Spirit here and greet tomorrow’s sun with joy.

  Subedei stared deeply at the countless Whispering Spirits flying around him.

  If someone else saw him now, they would surely think he was insane.

  His face was covered in blood, and even his clothes were dyed a deep crimson.

  Every time he barely managed to swing his spear, hundreds of thoughts burst forth from within him.

  “Why am I even fighting?”

  “Can’t I just leave all of this and rest?”

  “I’m tired. My whole body hurts.”

  Subedei couldn’t stop these thoughts. His spear began to slow, as if it too were about to halt.

  He realized this was becoming just like what had happened when Zev had lost consciousness and been left among countless Whispering Spirits.

  Subedei carved it deeply into his heart—he would never again kneel before these Whispering Spirits, never lose consciousness in front of them.

  At that moment, his spear grew fast once more, slicing and piercing through the Whispering Spirits.

  A smile formed on his face as he whispered,

  “I don’t care. I will kill the Whispering Spirits.”

  “I will kill them all.”

  “I will kill every Whispering Spirit here.”

  With each repetition, his whisper grew louder, until he was shouting.

  He kept fighting… and fighting…

  At last, the fog began to thin little by little.

  The Whispering Spirits decreased one by one, and faint rays of sunlight fell upon Subedei.

  Seeing all this, he did not rejoice. He simply stood there in silence.

  Finally, there were no more Whispering Spirits left for his spear to pierce or cut.

  The fog completely vanished, and he collapsed straight to the ground.

  Gasping for breath, he lay there staring at the sky.

  Watching the blue clouds drift by, he slowly fell asleep without realizing it.