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Chapter 41: Final Struggle [2]
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... ery time it moved.
It was a defining characteristic of a ghost horse—one that could not be injured by normal attacks.
Its skin was so pale it wasn’t even white. Shiny silver hair. Black pupils filling its eyeballs, and a torn mouth.
The knight who stopped in front of me—or, more precisely, the head he was holding in his hand—moved its mouth.
> "D’admhaigh mé tú, ach níor mhionnaigh mé go foirmiúil fós."
Since Asmodeus wasn’t here, I had no idea what he ...
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