Chapter 39
Ashiro was a man who had witnessed too much in his lifetime. Things that would break others, twist them, leave them hollow. To him, most of it barely registered. Very little in this world could still move him. Saying nothing could shake him would not even be an exaggeration.
But right now, he was shaken to his core.
Not by fear. No. Fear was beneath him.
What troubled him was what he was seeing with his own eyes.
The young demon he had been seconds away from killing was glowing. A faint but unmistakable golden light wrapped around the boy's battered body, seeping from torn flesh and shattered bones.
Azura.
The sign of a blessed soul.
Not cursed. Not tainted.
Blessed.
Ashiro's grip tightened.
Impossible.
The healing was far too fast. Even for a blessed one, this made no sense. The boy had not awakened his essence. He had not formed a core. At that stage, regeneration like this should be impossible. Flatly impossible.
