The scorching sun was high in the sky, sunlight piercing the eyes.
Above the sea of Aegina Island, two vessels still stood quietly, with Monica, the Church Saintess, standing on the deck, her gaze fixed unwaveringly on the direction of the Temple.
The sea breeze blew past, lifting her golden hair; her fair fingers crossed and clasped together, showing unease; her expression was so tense that her delicate body shuddered continuously in the sea breeze; all she could see in her line of sight were the vaguely visible tops of the marble pillars above the Temple, utterly unable to see Chen Fan and the others.
"He and Uncle will definitely be fine, because... he is the Butcher!"
Watching, watching, Monica closed her eyes, making a praying gesture, meanwhile comforting herself in her mind.
