The Delusions of the Weak

The scent of blood heavily wafted in the air as dark red flooded the sea. Raphael was taking fire from the ancestors, and he couldn't even return an attack or two. After all, his mobility was the only thing that was saving him from them. The first prince was already too weak to continue fighting.

Earlier, he had to endure heartache while bracing against the powerful blows coming from Sinclair's red magic. Even if it sounded strange, Raphael knew what he was up against. Right now, he was receiving the full power of the ancestors that cared little about being discovered by humans.

Moreover, he was incredibly furious that his heart was equally hurting. He looked down at his hand which held onto the magic ball that contained a human inside. Raphael glared at the image, and he was ached to crush it within his claws.