After an indeterminate amount of time, Tennyson slowly rose to his feet, the overpowering stench of filth making him nauseous.
After finally regaining his composure, Tennyson realized that the few remaining men in the Tenth Hall had already fallen eerily silent.
Originally, they had suffered severe injuries, and with the added pressure from that overwhelming aura just now, they simply couldn't bear it. His son, who had a fondness for lollipops, was also there.
However, at that moment, as he gazed upon his deceased son, Tennyson showed absolutely no change in his expression.
"Item pouch, item pouch..." It seemed as if Tennyson remembered something and began to rummage through the item pouches of the deceased members of the Tenth Hall. He even went through his son's item pouch.
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