With the strong smell of blood in his nose, Adam reached the spot where his mother, Alisha, was standing. He quickly dismounted; he hadn't expected Migzar to attack just as he was riding by.
The horse snorted loudly as it came to a stop, its body still tense from the speed of the ride.
It was like some damn joke of fate.
The thought lodged in his mind with a bitter clarity, impossible to ignore.
...However, seeing the state she was in, he clenched his teeth and fists tightly, and blood began to drip. How had those bastards dared to hurt his mother?
His nails dug into his skin without his seeming to care, as if the physical pain were insignificant compared to what he was seeing.
Just by looking at his mother's appearance, Adam could tell that she hadn't been doing well at all and that she was carrying a heavy burden. That shouldn't have happened.
Every wound, every mark, every trace of exhaustion was silent evidence that fed something dark inside him.
