Meanwhile, in the private estate where they had found the coffin for the members of the La Crox family. Noah stood in front of the estate, watching fire devour the place.
"Your Grace," he whispered, recalling Samael's pained expression when he left. "I'm sorry that the Remington's couldn't do anything during the late king's madness."
The children of the late king weren't born wicked. If one looked into them thoroughly, one could see that they were just children, trapped in a cruel place, and desperate to survive. Noah could understand this as the Remington had an almost similar system in raising children.
Their sins in the present were inexcusable, but they were pitiful in a way.
"I wish I could pat your back once, Your Grace." a bitter smile resurfaced on Noah's lips as he was concerned about Samael. The latter always had a soft spot for his family, so he couldn't imagine the pain Samael would be in once he had taken Alphonse's life.
