The Land of the Ultras…
Beyond the end of the mountain range, far from the Puppet City that had been wiped from existence..
Clutching his chest with one hand, trying to keep the gaping, bleeding wound from tearing wider, and supporting himself against the wall with the other—
Frey Starlight walked with a broken body and an exhausted soul, step by step, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
The whites of his eyes had turned crimson from all the blood, clouding his vision to the point he could barely see.
The agony he was enduring wasn't something a normal human could survive.
And yet—
Frey never fell.
"I'm still standing…"
He muttered through clenched teeth, trying to give himself strength as he panted heavily, each breath a battle after having inhaled far too much smoke and toxic gas.
"I haven't fallen yet…"
A bitter feeling swelled in his chest.
He had come such a long way ..
From a boy who once didn't even know how to hold a sword—
