After Angel left, Gengar looked toward Wise Sovereign through the hole in the wall, somewhat worried.
"My lord, should I call Little Treasure over...?"
Wise Sovereign waved his hand. "No need. I need to think through some things alone. Go with Angel and let me have some peace and quiet."
Though Gengar still wanted to say something, seeing that Wise Sovereign had already issued an eviction order, he could only leave helplessly.
Wise Sovereign watched the hole in the wall slowly vanish. Soon, no one else's presence remained in the lounge.
Wise Sovereign closed his eyes and sank into long contemplation.
Who knew how much time passed before Wise Sovereign's low sigh finally echoed through the silent space. "Ah, Naraka, Naraka..."
Wise Sovereign shook his head, his face full of bitterness.
Ten thousand years was far too long. Even Wise Sovereign himself had changed from a conservative who clung to persistence into a reformist. How could Naraka possibly have remained unchanged?
Naraka had seen the sights of the outside world. His ideas must have been constantly changing and renewing.
Wise Sovereign had naturally considered this as well.
But he had always held to one belief: as long as Naraka's original intention toward this City of Ruins remained unchanged, then nothing else mattered.
But would Naraka's original intention truly remain unchanged?
In the past, Wise Sovereign believed he understood Naraka. He believed Naraka was a man with an overwhelming sense of responsibility. Even if he strayed onto the wrong path while moving forward, he would correct himself in time and preserve his original intention forever.
That was why Wise Sovereign had been willing to hold fast to his obsession, silently waiting for Naraka's return in the pitch-black underground without a shred of light.
But now, Angel had brought Augustine's words, and