บท 164: 161: Pain; for your tormented soul should I kill you

“I have not much to say in respect to your decision, Marquess Meyer,” Father William uttered, a deep frown marring his face as he stood with his back facing the entrance of the Chruch of Temperance. “But whatever is destined to happen from this point onwards, I pray that the Angel of Death mat always be in your favour.“

Lin FenXiang nodded, dressed in a pristine white buttoned-up shirt and black trousers with a tweed jacket hugging his slender waist. Black leather shoes adorned his feet and the thin fabric of white gloves covered his hands elegantly.

With his back straight and form standing tall, towering above the priest, the painter faced him, amber eyes glowing as his face remained stoic whilst his slightly black long wavy hair was tousled by the wind blowing around him.

Gently pulling at his gloves the painter hummed, dipping his head into a slight bow as he moved his hands to adjust his cuffs.