Marine Headquarters Hospital, private ward.
Loa stood outside the door, leaning against the wall. The other members of the Elite Camp had all come too. Everyone kept their heads down, silent and lost in thought.
Vice Admiral Haisoken had once told Loa that Hansa was also an inheritor of Asura Swordsmanship. Loa had told no one.
Neither Zephyr nor Haisoken had spoken openly about it. If they were both keeping it quiet, they must have their reasons.
Loa did not know the details, so he decided to act as though he knew nothing.
Inside the ward, Hansa lay weakly against his pillow with an IV in his arm. His face was pale.
Not the anemic pallor he usually had, but the lifeless Bai of dry bones.
Across from him sat Tony. The ropes had been removed, though Seastone cuffs still bound his wrists. He kept his hands tucked inside the loose sleeves of his hospital gown, where no one would notice them.
"Cough, cough!" Hansa looked at Tony with relief and regret in his eyes. "I should have told you all this sooner. But I never expected you to have such an opportunity with Asura Swordsmanship. Despite your lack of talent, you reached this stage so quickly."
"So I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize to me for, Hansa." Tony's gaze was steady. The blow had left him dazed for days, but now he had calmed down.
It was not because he had come to terms with it. Quite the opposite. He had fallen into a vicious cycle and given up struggling.
It was the calm of despair and grief, of a man who no longer cared whether he lived or died.
"I just want to know what these things are."
As he spoke, Tony raised his hands. His loose