In a daze, he smelled the scent of the floor and the sweat.
His mouth was filled with the taste of iron, the stinging blood scent suffocated his lungs, gasping for breath.
"Is this the end?"
That old voice angrily rebuked him, the furious wooden sword slashed down mercilessly, smacking him on the face: "You're such a disgrace, Kusaki! Get up!"
He tried hard to lift his hand, to support his body, but quickly collapsed to the ground again.
His vision turned dark.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." He hugged his head, pleading softly: "Please, let me rest for a moment... just a moment, please."
"Then leave here, get out."
A merciless kick struck his body, the floor seemed to roll over and slapped him, the world was spinning, turbulent.
That expressionless old face gradually blurred.
The old man looked down, gazing at him, without any pity.
