Betting everything, life that fights to the death is beautiful.
Not because of the distorted expression, not because of the dying wails, not because of regrets before the end.
That is pure, dazzling beauty like a flash of light.
But beauty is just beauty, whether one can defeat their opponent or change their predetermined fate—it's completely another matter. Most of the time, risking one's life doesn't necessarily yield results.
That being said.
When it comes to strength, emotions and logic are irrelevant.
The screams, as the air was ripped apart, echoed, followed by bursts of blood spurting out from various parts of Fafnir's body.
