"Stay away… or we will be forced to eliminate you along with the pope."
Soul Conqueror's voice seeped through the Gold Paladin's lips; and almost as if the Golden Paladin was slowly being pushed back into the depths of his own body, a completely different voice now resided in his mouth.
Of course, Riley didn't really know whose voice is who — but judging by Angela and the Pope's expression, any traces of the Gold Paladin have already fallen asleep.
"We don't want to be your enemy, Riley Ross," Soul Conqueror muttered; his voice, as calm as the pool of blood they were standing on,
"We started this organization in your image, don't let us ruin it by having your blood in our hands."
"My image?" Riley looked at the forest of corpses surrounding them, looking at the red scarves and masks that they were carrying, "Red is not my favorite color, Soul Conqueror."
