Outside the dim wooden cabin, bean-sized lights shone through the doors and windows, dotting the deep night.
Inside, a shadow cast upon the wall was missing its lower half, with its right forearm completely absent, creating a rather chilling sight.
Tch, what rotten luck...
Samael, propped up on a chair like a half-body plaster statue, looked at himself in the old dressing mirror with a deeply gloomy expression.
After several days of recuperation, his condition could hardly be called good.
Everything below his right elbow was gone, and both of his thighs had vanished as well.
Although the bloody stumps had healed under the effects of his immortality, he now looked like a short-limbed penguin in the snow—awkward and ridiculous.
Still, there was nothing to be done about it. Crimson Moon's demonic sword truly was powerful, and its strength did not belong to this planet.
During the battle at Fuhai Lin, his own protections and authorities had been dismantled and sealed by Crimson Moon's demonic sword.
As a result, Samael had been unable to absorb external mana for rapid regeneration and healing. He could only rely on his innate immortality to slowly mend his body.
But his divine body contained an incomparably vast and pure supply of mana. Relying solely on the tiny amount of life force accumulated through immortality, who knew how long it would take for him to fully recover and regrow every missing part.
The ancient serpent touched the bare stump of his right arm and sighed helplessly.
Looks like I'll still have to find a way to retrieve the pieces of my body that I left behind...
By chance, Samael's wandering gaze swept over the half-open large suitcase in the corner. Painful memories surged up, darkening his face as he repeatedly shook his head to dispel