บท 152: The Devil and his Lies

He came from the turbulent skies, shrouded by the thunder that appeared to welcome him. Pale light from distance arcs of lightning caught the aged face coming from the skies. Robes of Trinity billowing from off his shoulders. 

It had been a while since Zariel last saw Ivan. Yet he seemed to have aged another decade. He was pale and lanky. The wrinkles seemed even deeper than before, cutting across his face, neck, and shriveled fingers sticking out of his cloak. He had a look of disbelief as he floated down from the skies, marking the slaughter below. 

Few he could count on one hand that held the level of skill in the game of killing; fewer were ruthless enough to actually do it. 

"Where is the Atrium?" Ivan's voice was urgent, demanding. "We know you have it! The Dragon decreed it."