They backed away one by one, wishing they could stuff themselves into the wall.
The Wild Hunt made their scalps prickle just by standing there, and several soldiers' calves were trembling.
But at a time like this—
Dottore did not even turn his head.
He was still staring at the experimental screen, chin propped on his fingers, fingertips tapping the tabletop now and then.
Facing the arriving Wild Hunt, he merely said blandly:
"Such a temper? Looks like seizing the Moon Marrow failed?"
The moment he finished speaking, the air around them suddenly changed.
The aura of the Abyss began gathering toward the center, coiling into a mass like a tornado, blowing the papers on the table into a rattling mess. Several beakers fell from the rack and shattered all over the floor with a crack.
Then a human outline slowly emerged from the black mist—
The Moon Hunter, Leilier.
But that figure... how to put it? It was like a puzzle. Compared to before, he looked even more fragmented, and in this state, no one could tell how Dottore had managed to glue him back together.
He stared at Dottore, his gaze like knives.
"Hmph! You knew this would be the result all along?"
Only then did Dottore slowly turn around.
He looked Leilier up and down, lingering especially on those cracks for another two seconds, even tilting his head to study that lifted fragment of cheek before shaking his head, his smile so infuriating it begged to be punched.
"Don't have such a bad attitude. After all, I spent a great deal of time finally piecing your body back together."
He shifted half a step forward, his tone quite gentle, but the words that came out—
"Also, remember that your current body is rather fragile. Don't move around