Marcus had not attended school for many years. Most of his life was spent struggling in various dangerous places full of demons, so it was naturally impossible for him to have any aesthetic appreciation ability.
He only instinctively felt that the grand cathedral before him gave him an indescribable unique aesthetic sensation.
Unlike any cathedral he had seen before, the heaviness and decay that should not have appeared in such a place of divine worship now permeated every corner of his sight.
The dense fog persisted, and that towering spire, once a symbol of sanctity and a bridge to the Divine Country, had broken, leaving only jagged edges pointing awkwardly to the heavens, without a trace of redemption;
The heavy grey-black stone walls were covered in cracks, and withered, twisted black vines climbed like snakes along the walls, probing into the depths of the gaps as if trying to drag the cathedral into the abyss below;
