Chapter 517 - Ragnarök 9

Adam's world had narrowed to a symphony of pain and determination. Each breath sent fire through his punctured lungs, every heartbeat pumped blood from dozens of wounds that painted his flesh in streams of luminous gore. His ribs ground against each other with each movement, the fractured bones sending lightning bolts of agony through his torso. Blood—his own blood—had dried in crusty streaks across his face, making his features look like a war mask carved from suffering itself.