"Holy Land? I see. So this island is managed by a guild. I thought it was just an ordinary island..." With a bitter smile, the melancholy young man slowly raised his bowed head. His jet-black eyes, like two deep, dark gems, rested quietly on Achill for a moment. Then he shook his head and said softly, looking dejected, "All right. I'll leave. Don't worry..." With that, he prepared to turn away.
"Hey, you—" Achill instinctively stepped forward, about to call him back and ask who he was. But he had barely taken a single step when the melancholy young man thrust out a hand and shouted for him to stop—
"Don't!!"
Achill froze midstep, staring at the melancholy young man in bewilderment and suspicion. He clearly had no idea what had prompted this sudden outburst.
As though he knew what Achill was thinking, the melancholy young man pressed one hand to his forehead and held the other out in front of him. In an almost pleading voice, he told Achill, "Don't come near me. Please, don't. I don't want... I don't want to take anyone else's precious life. Never again..." His voice sank lower and lower, and by the time he finished, his expression was filled with profound pain and desolation.
Though the melancholy young man spoke very quietly, Achill's keen hearing caught every word. The deep loneliness in his voice shocked him, but combined with the man's already bizarre behavior, it left Achill with an overwhelming sense of dread! Yes, dread! Especially since his words seemed to imply that if Achill so much as approached him, he would be killed instantly! How was that possible?!
Achill was shaken to the core. He knew better than anyone just how powerful he was! With his current strength, even if he had