The sound of trickling water came from the darkness.
It began beside his ear. With every passing second, it made him colder.
"He didn't have to die."
A hoarse, indistinct voice that was impossible to make out slowly drifted from afar. Every tone was accompanied by the ominous sound of trickling water, making him tremble:
"If you hadn't warned him."
The spider in his mind futilely flexed and stretched its legs, yet could not move his body at all. It could only watch as the Ending Power went out together with the flame of his life.
Vanishing alongside that trickling water.
"Not good, Daniel."
Click—complex mechanisms sounded in succession.
With a splash, a cold hand clumsily pressed against his neck, as if trying to cut off that chilling stream.
Unfortunately, it was futile.
Water flowed from high to low, from top to bottom. It could not be cut off.
Just like the sun, moon, and stars, birth, aging, sickness, and death—none of them could be reversed.
"Stop wasting your effort."
The hoarse, indistinct voice sounded again, while the spider's legs spasmed wildly and futilely inside his mind:
"Drink quickly. Don't waste his blood."
The water trickled through the cold fingers, as though triggering something. The hand on his neck began to tremble, its tendons repeatedly flexing and relaxing.
"Did Federico send you?"
A weak, trembling male voice drifted over, forlorn and sorrowful:
"Or was it someone behind him?"
The hoarse voice gave a soft snort:
"What if I told you Chuangshi the Divine God sent me? Would you believe me? Drink the blood. I don't carry dead weight."
A suffocating silence lasted for quite some time.
That hand ultimately abandoned its attempt to stop the water and slowly left his neck.
The spider inside his mind trembled one last time