Bab 432: Godslayer?

After spending another month in the dungeon, Amy looked like a wraith, a pale ghost resembling her former self. Her face was gaunt, her cheeks hollowed out, and her eyes were sunken deep into her skull, ringed by dark, bruised circles. Her normally vibrant hair were matted and tangled, filled with dirt-dust, and sweat n blood.

 Her lips, cracked and bleeding, were proof of the relentless thirst that gnawed at her. She licked them involuntarily, but the gesture of touch only brought a sting of pain.

Her body was a map of her suffering. Sore muscles ached with every movement, and her throat felt raw and heavy, each swallow a painful ordeal. Her mouth was like a desert, parched and empty, devoid of any moisture. Her armor, once rich and gleaming, was now a patchwork of crude repairs, fixed together with strips of monster hide. Dried blood stained her clothes, leaving a grim reminder of the constant struggle.