Allen's appearance at that moment said everything about his condition.
The white hair he normally combed back meticulously out of habit was already a complete mess. A patch behind the left side of his forehead had even been scorched by electricity, and the surrounding hair stood on end from static.
Many of the feathers on his once-layered Raven Feather cloak had fallen away, the scattered remnants looking as if they had been trampled and abused. The black wizard robe that had wrapped around his body had been reduced to a few ragged strips of cloth. Even the patterns formed from Ancient Runes, painstakingly stitched in dark-red-dyed Mithril thread onto the black silk robe adorned with elegant Waterfall-shaped Dark Steel Thread, were no longer complete, having lost their function of warding off attacks...
Some magical gems in the inner fittings that moved like dragon eyes, along with one of his boots, had vanished without a trace. Only a few remained, looking as though they were listlessly struggling to keep their eyes open and stay alert to their surroundings.
As for Allen himself, he was leaning on his staff. His pale face, marked by the distinctive branching injuries formed by electric currents, seemed covered in shadow. His once-clear gaze looked hazy and unfocused. Numb and weak all over, he pressed his lips tightly together and said nothing.
Only the blue shield created directly from Ravenclaw's divine power still protected him, keeping him from being harmed by this world where any living person who stepped inside would meet a fatal end.
At the very beginning, he had still been able to contend with Grim Reaper Herpo. But after struggling again and again for three days up to now, he had already begun to give up counting how many times he had been killed,