There was nothing but a void of silence. The way Leonel stood, it looked like he was still infuriated, tossing aside Kron's corpse as though he was dissatisfied that there was no one left to vent his fury on.
Indeed, Kron had managed to figure it out at the last moment. His shock and awe had nothing to do with Leonel's Divine Armor. As he watched his fellow family members die one after another, suffering horrible, cruel deaths, all he could think about was what could have possibly led things to come to this point… and in the end, as he breathe his last, he finally grasped it.
But even then, he found it hard to believe… hard to believe that such a Crafter could exist in the younger generation because it was hard to believe that such an existence could even exist amongst the older generation. It felt that none of it made any sense.
Everything hinged on one matter: the protective formation itself.
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