Hearing the indifferent, slightly amused voice—filled with mocking disdain—from the person he had believed had shattered his existence before his eyes, Nathaniel's earlier shocked face slowly morphed into something very terrifying, his dilated cyan pupils quivering with cold, seething anger.
Kyle's words had already driven him to madness, his body trembling with fury.
He couldn't stop questioning himself, frantically—why? Why? Just why?
Clearly, he could tell that both he and Kyle, just like Azazeal, had reached the End and stood at the pinnacle of Celestial rank with equal status, yet those glowing green eyes still looked down on him as if he were just a clown. They carried a natural arrogance, as if he were far below him. The thought alone made him want to tear Kyle's amused face and drag him through hell until he begged.
Undeniably, Kyle had died before his very eyes—vanished, leaving nothing behind.
