At the summit of Saintlight Peak, the Basilica Hall rose in grand splendor, gleaming with gold and jade.
Aurelius, the Lord of the Basilica, sat at the center in a pure white holy robe. His face was handsome, his bearing refined. One hand idly turned a jade slip filled with the aura of holy radiance, and his expression looked calm, almost leisurely.
Below him, the scout who had rushed back from the Demon Marches was covered in dust, his clothes in disarray.
His body still would not stop shaking. His face had gone stark white. He knelt in the middle of the great hall with his forehead pressed tight to the floor, and when he opened his mouth, his voice shook so badly he could barely get the words out. Aurelius slowly set down the jade slip and looked at the trembling scout below him.
His brows drew together a little. "You followed Godric the whole way. Why are you in such a state? Did something happen? Tell me slowly. There's no need to lose yourself."
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