Deng Lun stepped forward for a closer look and shook his head. "From the looks of it, he never had time to use it."
"The fool must have gotten the urge to delve into the ruins of Gor to hunt the Stone Race again. A Gargoyle got him, and by the time he was discovered and rescued, the window to use the potion had long since passed."
Casimir's gaze grew deep, his tone tinged with sarcasm. "I told you. His head is filled with nothing but sleep and expired blood packs."
"He dared to go to Gor, a place even my father wouldn't enter lightly. Well, he's learned his lesson this time. A pity the price was so steep."
He crouched down, his fingers carefully tracing a damaged area on the statue's chest. He noted that the petrified clothing was torn in an irregular pattern.
"However, this wound doesn't look like it was made by a Gargoyle's claws. It's more like... the result of an explosion from some extremely powerful Shaping Magic."
