He wore a long black cloak and a black battle shapelessness as horrible as his own, whose contours were made of burnished metal. And he wore on his head, whose remnants of wild locks that escaped from it were of a whitish hue, a wide-brimmed hat adorned with a feather of past rainbow colors.
His whole body must have been skeletal, emaciated, only skin on bone, and his face, having lost an eye, a nose and lips, not to mention an ear, was of an ugliness that nothing could have described.
He stared at that one eye with the prasin green iris on them, filled with obscenity and murderous desire.
"This time, I don't need to be you Miron to know what he wants to do."
"Your remark is a little out of place Kei."
But as usual, the demonstration was not over.
Mists of shadows rose from the entir
