Uijae stared blankly at the severed head as if it were covered by a hazy film. The eyes that gazed back at him were dull and lifeless, devoid of the energy they once held. These were the eyes of a dead man. The face that had once shyly offered him a potion or eagerly ordered more hangover soup was long gone.

Yet, Uijae couldn’t tear his gaze away from the face. He struggled to find any trace of the person he once knew in the lifeless features before him.

‘Why?’

His mind was spinning, unable to grasp the situation. The head of the once lively Russian bear of a man, now bristling with spikes, felt as though it was the only thing in the world that existed. The eyes, still open but devoid of life, stared vacantly. His chest tightened, and his vision blurred.

Why was this happening here? How had things come to this? There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but none that could be answered—because it was his own hands that had severed this man's head.

At that moment, the sharp sound of something scraping pierced the air. Faster than Uijae expected, he was already moving, his foot hitting the ground, and before his other foot could touch down, his spear had already pierced through flesh and bone. Splat! Blood sprayed out as Uijae gritted his teeth.

He let go of the spear and clenched his fists. Before the body he impaled could even hit the ground, his solid fist shattered the spikes that rushed at him.