A black-haired girl lay on top of a bed, as several people paced back and forth, some looking at her with worry and others looking thoughtful.
The attention of the former was on the bottom part of the girl, or to be more accurate, on the lack of it.
Golden light flickered as the flesh along her waist began to granulate, attempting to help her recover.
Unfortunately, no matter how much the golden light tried, it was unable to fully heal her.
At most, it could prevent the girl's injuries from getting more severe.
While the people were waiting for the girl to wake up, the door of the room suddenly swung open.
An elderly man stepped in, and his gaze scanned over the room before finally landing on the unconscious girl.
"Where is my son?", his cold voice echoed, breaking the awkward silence of the room.
The expressions of everyone changed.
They could hear the anger in the Priest's voice, as well as sense the boundless murderous intent accompanying it.
