Roger gazed at the emaciated Sword Master Cold Crow, feeling as if he were watching rotting wood struggling to breathe.
"Is it the beginning of the Transformation?"
Roger thought about the complete plan for the Spirit Sword; perhaps he had already transferred his life form into another direction.
Furthermore, Sajo had mentioned during the battle that for the past 20 years, Sword Master Cold Crow had not left the small hut where he resided.
Was it due to weakness, or did this house hold secrets that Roger was yet to uncover?
"The object has been retrieved."
The Sword Master Cold Crow spoke, his withered palm trembling as he reached out to pick up the wine jug on the table.
Roger found it hard to reconcile the image of this frail old man, who seemed on the verge of death, with the majestic and peerless sword master he had just witnessed.
He stepped forward, took the wine jug from Sword Master Cold Crow's hand, and filled the empty cup.
