If it was someone weak, he might get a chance in the future.
"And who's the other?" He looked at Amon with cold fury, asking for the other person's identity.
Amon knew he should have just pushed everything onto Galahad. But damn it, one part of him was telling him to tell the truth.
Amon's lips curved widely into a creepy smile. His teeth were bloodied. His face was filled with wounds.
And then those dark, delighted eyes. The creepy smile made Zareth uncomfortable for a moment.
"It was me… hehehe~ hahahahaha. That pathetic bastard… his name I don't know… but he was stronger than me… yet got killed by me… by a weakling. He had amber-colored eyes. He truly deserved death… such a loser. Hehehe~. You can't believe how he was looking at me in his last moment. He was one hell of a loser bastard–"
Amon kept talking while laughing crazily, but his words didn't get completed as a punch collided against Amon's swollen cheek.
Blood splattered.
