Amon slowly lifted his head.
His breathing was heavy. His body was covered in dust, blood, and small cuts. The battlefield around him was almost silent now. The sounds of fighting had disappeared.
Only the distant noises of a few remaining monsters and collapsing trees could be heard.
He looked up at the voice that talked to him just now.
Just a short distance away from him, one tree was still standing.
It was tall, but most of its branches were broken. Many of its blackened leaves had already fallen, and the trunk looked half-burned and cracked from the battle.
But that was not what made Amon stare. At the top of the trunk, someone was standing there.
A figure wearing full violet armor.
The armor looked elegant and smooth, not bulky like normal armor. Strange patterns were engraved on its surface, and faint purple lines glowed across it like flowing energy.
The man wearing that armor looked to be in his mid-twenties.
He was extremely handsome.
