Lin looked down at Nydrian, his face struck with shock.

In a fleeting moment, the archer had taken the Demon God’s skill in his stead, collapsing as she barely managed to turn her head, gazing up at him without end.

“Did I… help… at all…?”

“Don’t talk… the bleeding…!”

Blood gushed from the stumps of her severed arms instead of coughs.

A suffocating, metallic scent lingered in the air.

“I’ll heal you. Just hold on a bit longer!”

“No! No… it’s already too late….”

Arsil rushed over, attempting to use her holy power, but Nydrian stopped the saintess.

“It’s already… …