As the Pope's words fell, Yani's face suddenly flashed pale, and the aura around him became intensely chaotic, the faint Holy Light surrounding him suddenly extinguished completely.
In the depths of his heart, something that had been constant and unchanging suddenly developed massive cracks.
A trace of blood, tinged with white Holy Light, trickled from the corner of his mouth, staining the fingers he raised in confusion, looking particularly startling against his pale skin.
Faced with this scene, the Pope merely watched the struggling Yanile calmly, some unknown meaning flowing in his eyes, which glowed with white Holy Light, seemingly waiting for something.
Gradually, as time passed, Yanile's gaze slowly calmed down, a strand of determination once again rising from the depths of his eyes.
A faint white Holy Light re-emerged from his body, seemingly no different from before, yet as if fundamentally different in some way.
"At this moment, how do you feel?"
