Now, Prince Caster was just like the soul presented by Sigma, covered all over with Red Dragon scale armor, and a clear dragon pattern spread across half of his face. Coupled with the Demon Sword Apophis in his hand, this posture was all too familiar for the knights who had fought alongside Sigma.
The only difference was that Caster's stature was slightly shorter than Sigma's, but after all, Caster was just a fifteen or sixteen-year-old boy, which was not a big deal.
"I... Did I really succeed?"
Caster looked at the crowd kneeling densely before him as if he was in a dream.
For him, the process of soul transformation was truly too painful, like a thousand knives slicing at his soul, making every second unbearable with excruciating pain. There were even several times he wanted to give up, but whenever he thought of Guinevere's expectations and Le Cheng's encouragement, he clenched his teeth and persevered.
