The weak demonic wolf, Finkin, could only open his still weak eyes and blankly reply to Odin.
"I don't want to be enemies with you anymore!" Odin announced briefly. He didn't want to continue this pointless hatred and hostile stance.
"You're much older than me, aren't you?" Odin looked straight at the Demonic Wolf Fenley's face. There was no trace of age on the wolf's face, but he could only see Bi'an panting weakly from her injuries.
"Don't tell me you won't feel tired after a long, endless battle between Fiendgods? Our giants are probably as long as humans, right? But I'm only in my thirties, and I'm already tired." Odin lay on the snow, looking exhausted, while breathing heavily, as if a heavy burden had been lifted off his shoulders, and his mouth was emitting puffs of white steam.
