Chapter 889: The Dead End That Caught Up
On the outskirts of the royal capital, beneath a secluded cliff unknown to anyone.
A figure suddenly appeared there.
As though he had flown silently from the horizon, the moment he appeared, he seemed to lose all his strength and fell downward.
"Bang!"
Amid a dull impact, the man crashed heavily onto the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.
"Cough, cough!"
Mouthful after mouthful of blood spilled from his lips, telling anyone who saw him just how grievous his injuries were.
A closer look revealed that he had indeed suffered terribly severe wounds.
Not only was he covered in burns, scorch marks, and wounds, but he had also lost an arm and a leg.
Blood flowed endlessly from his body, gradually staining the ground beneath him red.
In such a miserable, pathetic state, his face twisted as he let out a low roar.
"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!"
With his one remaining hand, he pounded the ground so hard that it cracked apart.
"Why!?"
"Why is it always you people!?"
"Why—!?"
Hermes was consumed by rage.
To begin with, he harbored resentment and hatred toward the six Demonoid sisters that others could scarcely understand.
Just as younger siblings might envy—or even hate—an overly outstanding elder brother or sister, Hermes's situation was far more complicated and intense.
After all, it was not that he lacked talent. He had merely been born slightly later than those so-called older sisters, yet he became an incomplete product that was only half Demonoid. He could only look up at those sisters, who had been born Transcendent, shining brilliantly on the battlefield and freely coming and going at the Demon Lord's side, proudly claiming the identity of her daughters. Perhaps only Hermes himself knew what that