"Is it over? You still haven't told me what that thing is or why it appeared in my dungeon! I've always kept out of trouble. I don't think I've offended anyone I couldn't afford to offend!"
The Sin Lord stared at him wide-eyed and asked in panic.
But a moment later, she froze.
Instinctively, she looked toward Lynn, who had suddenly gone motionless.
"Hey? What's wrong with you? Didn't you hear me?"
Her eyes widened.
Unable to help herself, she reached out and poked Lynn, who had been so lively just moments ago.
There was no response.
It was as though time itself had frozen around her.
She could only vaguely make out some indescribable power and fluctuations surging across his tightly closed eyelids. But perhaps less than two seconds later, those eyes slowly opened. As though time had settled within them, they seemed to hold so much more than before.
He turned and looked at her.
The instant his gaze fell on her, the Sin Lord's heart inexplicably lurched. She couldn't help taking a step back, staring blankly into those eyes.
The Lynn before her was still Lynn.
Yet somehow, the way he looked at her had completely changed. The teasing was gone, replaced by an unsettling weight of solemnity and depth.
And beneath that solemnity, there seemed to be a trace of poignant sorrow and self-reproach.
"You... what's wrong with you?"
The Sin Lord sensed something was wrong. She instinctively backed away, her pupils contracting as her intuition led her hand slowly toward the dagger at her waist.
He seemed to have so much he wanted to say. The longing to tell her was unmistakable in his eyes, yet he seemed to hold back.
He tried to tell her something.
But before he could begin, immense disturbances in