'Enough wasting time. We're doing the next reforging now.'
Demorian let out a long sigh, staring at Zephyrion as though he were trying to reason with a block of stone. Eventually, he seemed to accept that there was no getting through to him and relented.
'…alright, if you insist. But just so you know, "she's my sister, I can apologize whenever I want" is a classic red flag.'
'…what are we reforging next?'
Demorian grumbled something about stubborn bastards before finally answering.
'…look inside yourself. What's currently suffering the most?'
Zephyrion frowned and did just that. His mind was still a bit foggy from the intense pressure of last night, but he slowly examined his entire body using his blood.
For several seconds, everything appeared normal. Metallic bones, healthy organs, nothing out of place. Then, as he shifted slightly on the bed, he suddenly paused, his brows drawing together.
'…what the hell?'
