Stray

Oliver didn’t lie to him. There was really nothing more distracting than this.

Since those subtle cracks began to open, Nemo did not dare to move at will. It wasn’t because of fear of failure in casting his spell, but because the hostility was too strong. It didn’t matter. He could still handle it. It was the price he had personally chosen. Compared to the chill caused by the surging disgust, another thing was even more serious…

He knew this feeling well. Being attacked, hated, and begged.

There was only vague impression in his mind. The sky was getting a little darker than it was now, and the attack became more real. The quivering shadow was naked, and various armors emitted a faint halo in the dimmed light. Countless languages and spells converged in the dark, like a storm without stopping. Although the memory was vague, the instinctive reaction that it brought made Nemo feel a cold chill behind his back. He subconsciously wanted to attack the source of hostility and the sense of attack seemed to originate from instinct as he felt accustomed to it.

He was frightened by this impulse and almost stopped everything in his hand unsteadily. The fear and hostility of the townspeople did not stop, so Nemo had to harden his resolve and reluctantly continue, while desperately trying to empty his mind.

“You bastard son of reptiles and demons, go to hell—” an old man with bad legs collapsed on the ground while cursing angrily at him.

Perhaps he had come from there.

“Traitor to mankind. Despicable monster!” A voice belonging to a woman screamed.

There was a handful of humans present.