The storm carried faint mocking laughter.
Ever since teaming up with Bologue, Bologue's brilliance had completely overshadowed Palmer, but Palmer wasn't envious; on the contrary, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Palmer was a devoted slacker, and since Bologue so loved to work and was keen on slaughtering enemies, he might as well leave these matters to him.
In fact, since partnering with Bologue, Palmer rarely put in full effort—there was no need—Bologue would decapitate all their foes.
Now, it was Palmer's own moment for vengeance, a time to unleash his full force.
Morrison struggled to calm himself; his ether reserves were low, and he couldn't afford to waste them. The dust storm obscured his vision, and without Palmer's blood on the Chasing Sword, he couldn't trace his movements.
This storm felt like a slow execution.
Execution?
Morrison suddenly realized Palmer's intent: this wasn't a desire for a fair fight of revenge; he wanted Morrison to die slowly in despair.
