The battlefield itself told a story. The destruction here far surpassed even the carnage of the Battle of the Mist.
It was hard to believe this was the result of a single battle—one against one.
The Eight-Limbed Lady was dead. But there was no sign of Aura. No trace of Sansa.
Signs that led most to believe she too had perished in the fight.
But Oliver Khan refused to accept that.
The Great Guardian found himself running across the battlefield, searching desperately.
Under rocks and rubble, above ground and beneath it…
He scoured every inch, the truth sinking in with every step.
What would he do… if she truly was gone?
Sansa Valerion—his only family—whom he had so carelessly cast aside not long ago.
What if she was dead, no longer in this world?
Most wouldn't care. To them, her death would mean nothing more than the end of another filthy demon—a monster unworthy of living among them.
But was that how Oliver Khan felt?
"Of course not!"
