Long since used to it.
A rusty smell of blood quietly spread through the mist.
Gauze stained with traces of blood slid lightly across the dark-brown surface of the Wooden Sword, and his fingertips could still feel the warmth lingering on the blade.
He wiped away the last smear of blood.
Xia Nan sheathed his sword.
He stepped forward, his gray-white Leg Armor crossing over the Half-Orc's headless body.
There was only coldness in his pitch-black eyes, without the slightest ripple of emotion.
At some unknown point, he seemed to have grown used to the feeling of taking lives.
Clearly, just over a year ago, he had only been an ordinary office worker struggling in the workplace, someone who had never even slaughtered a chicken. Yet now, he could already look upon the passing of life with indifference.
Was it because of those Greenskin Goblins he had used to vent his pent-up emotions, or was it the power that had gradually strengthened along with his adventures?
Or perhaps... this was his nature to begin with, merely concealed by the comfortable life of his previous life?
Now was not the time to dissect his own heart.
More important by comparison was the timely maintenance of the Wooden Sword.
After all, it came from an otherworldly Secret Realm. There was a high chance no related materials existed on the Aifala Continent. Even if its body was sturdy, if it suffered damage over time, he was afraid he would not even know where to take it for repairs.
If he had the chance, he ought to take as careful care of it as possible in normal times as well, in order to extend the time this weapon could be used.
As for the Greenskin Half-Orc on the ground, who had already been reduced