Chapitre 332: The Demonic Atlar (3) The Lost Arm

The moment the decay demon's hand clamped down on my arm, it felt like I had been submerged in a vat of acid. A searing, sharp pain shot through my arm, radiating up to my shoulder, and my mind—without my consent—began dissecting the experience. I could feel the skin on my left hand, already tinged with a sickly gray, begin to crack and peel under the demon's touch. It wasn't like a normal burn, no. This was different. The sensation wasn't immediate—it started subtly, almost like a dull throb in the bones, but it quickly spread outward, infecting every nerve with a pain that was unbearable yet strangely distant. It was as though my mind was watching my body fall apart, calculating every shift, every layer that decayed, almost fascinated by the destruction happening in real-time.