Only after a long while did the rumbling and explosions in the Training Ground gradually die down.
The Training Ground was now torn apart, a scene of utter devastation.
Apart from the safe spot Randall and Zephyr had deliberately left for Christa, nothing remained but rubble.
Randall lay atop the rubble, his armor shattered and gone, his upper clothing reduced to nothing as well.
His exposed body was covered in bruises, a testament to Zephyr's profound love.
Naturally, the battle had ended in an overwhelming victory for Zephyr.
Forget injuries—even Zephyr's clothes were completely intact.
Yet he seemed a little dazed.
A trace of shock still lingered in his gaze as he looked at Randall.
"Get up, brat! Stop pretending!"
Zephyr spoke irritably.
The moment he finished, Randall, who had been playing dead, sprang back to life.
Medical miracle.jpg
"Hehe, your fists sure pack a punch, Teacher Zephyr!"
Randall wore a ingratiating expression as he spoke.
Though, with his face in its current state, it was hard to make out any expression at all...
Then he changed tack and put on a pitiful act:
"With these injuries, I might be bedridden for three to five years. Owww~"
"Heh, three to five years, is it? Keep talking like that, and I'll make sure you really are bedridden for three to five years!"
Zephyr spoke ominously.
Randall immediately jumped up from the ground. White light flashed over his body, and his skin instantly regained its unblemished fairness.
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Watching Randall recover completely, Zephyr suddenly remembered something.
The doctors had marveled at Randall's earlier injuries, saying it was a miracle he had survived.
Yet in just one short week, he had already more or less recovered.
It was simply...
At the time, Randall had angered him so much that it hadn't registered.