A Father’s Mask

Zaroth was taking ragged breaths, staring at the ground.

'Zaroth? Zaroth!' Luna's shout echoed in his mind, but he wasn't in a condition to hear her.

His heart was beating so fast it was going to burst, his mana core was going to crack any moment.

Before he realized it, he had begun to bleed from his eyes.

Mana scarcity, it seemed that he had pushed himself too far while fighting Radan.

'And this is just the sixth round. Fuck, what am I going to do in the other rounds?' he cursed in his mind.

A second later, he felt a gentle hand on his back, his wounds slowly began to heal.

"Are you okay?" the healer, a woman wearing a white robe with a red cross, asked as she looked him in the eyes.

He took a moment to respond. "Yes."

"Good. When you get home, you need to rest. Do you understand?"