He tugged a bitter smile at the corner of his mouth, with an almost self-destructive honesty, "This life of mine was saved by Malachi Arcanus, perhaps only in this way can I atone for my sins."
He did not argue or shirk responsibility, carrying a heavy aura of darkness, standing there tightly, self-mockingly, yet filled with sorrow.
What he once tried his best to protect had long since become unrecognizable and even turned into the source of disaster.
And the female he wanted to protect for a lifetime now stood here, eyes filled with compassion and sighs, yet the warmth he yearned for was absent.
That faint thought, once supporting him through countless days and nights, had now turned to ashes.
Protect her?
He had long lost the qualification for this, and he had tainted this intention.
He lowered his head, seemingly unwilling to let her see the complex emotions surging in his eyes—regret, despair, humility, and a bit of relinquishment.
