Mary and Francesca at the Bedside

Wait! Ailin suddenly thought of a question: who had been fighting the King of the Wild Hunt?!!

Once that question surfaced in his mind, he could not shake it.

The next second.

He "rushed" into the silent battlefield, weaving through knights whose faces were smeared with blood.

For several moments, he even brushed past several knights face-to-face—the veins on their foreheads bulging, their mouths bared in soundless roars—and clearly saw their builds, the styles of their armor, and the tulip-like crests upon it.

Longswords gleaming with icy cold light slashed past the hairs on his arm toward the Wild Hunt.

No one noticed his presence.

At this moment, not only had every sound been muted, but even the smell of blood and sweat flooding his nostrils was rapidly fading.

The mountains beyond the wilderness at the edge of his vision were being erased bit by bit as well.

He instinctively looked back. The city he had come from had suddenly vanished too, along with the noble heirs standing at its gates. Only thick black smoke surged in from all directions, wrapping around the battlefield like the poisonous zone from a game in his previous life, rapidly shrinking the area.

It seemed that the closer he came to the heart of the battlefield—to Eredin Breacc Glas, the King of the Wild Hunt, and the knight commander obscured by the silver-white knights—the more restricted his senses of taste, smell, touch, hearing, and sight became, until they nearly vanished.

In an extremely bizarre way, this world was rejecting him.

At the very least, I have to see Eredin's opponent!

Ailin shouted desperately in his heart. The nameless existence that had brought him here seemed to hear his call, and the speed at which his vision advanced increased even further.

The black smoke accelerated