“Hey. Zoltan? Snap out of it.”
Park Min-hyuk waved a hand in front of Zoltan’s vacant eyes.
But the Blade Saint seemed lost to the world, his gaze fixed on nothing. He was trapped in a prison of his own making.
A single tear welled, tracing a path down his cheek as if in response to some profound, internal sorrow.
‘This… this can’t be happening…’
How much time, how much effort had he poured into reaching his peak?
He had given up
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