Corpses were strewn across the ground, their lifeless bodies trampled as the enemies continued their merciless slaughter. Blood soaked into the earth, and the air reeked of death.
Souta's expression darkened.
Then, suddenly, a figure stood before him.
It was a towering man with long, flowing crimson hair that writhed like living flames. A pair of blazing red eyes glared from beneath a set of curved horns protruding from his head. A thick beard and mustache framed his stern face, giving him an imposing presence.
A member of the Vajra Race.
Souta's height barely reached the man's stomach.
'What? This guy…? Don't tell me...' Souta slowly lifted his head, meeting the man's gaze.
"There's no need to be surprised," the man said, his voice heavy and resolute. "I'm looking straight at you."
'So he really can see me…' Souta's mind tightened. This is exactly why probing memories is dangerous. There's always a chance of brushing against higher beings.
