Chapter 23
‘It hurts.’
Demian pondered the cause behind it.
Was it due to the grudges held by those wounded by his sword? Or the lingering effects of relentless training, leaving no room for rest? Perhaps it was because his purse remained empty despite his struggles in battle.
One thing was certain: when the pain struck, he desperately needed medicine. Some called it painkillers, others deemed it a cursed drug.
‘But who is he…’
Demian wondered, as an unfamiliar man entered the waiting room, clutching the container of medicine. Moreover, he spewed nonsensical remarks while eyeing the contents.
“Tsk tsk. It’s unfortunate. Why settle for such cheap painkillers? Can you find solace in these?”
“…What?” Demian Cayenne felt taken aback.
This man was a stranger. How had he managed to enter the room? Was he an arena official? He didn’t give off that impression; rather, he seemed dubious at first glance. Demian struggled to comprehend.