At this very moment,
The Emperor of Angels was steeped in a heavy, gnawing self-reproach. Deep down, he could not help but berate himself, wondering why he had been so reckless.
Why… why had he just lost control like that?
For as long as he could remember, the Emperor of Angels had prided himself on his composure. He was the kind of ruler who never allowed emotions to dictate his actions, the kind who could keep a calm mind even in the most turbulent of storms. It was precisely because of this iron-clad self-control that Her Majesty, the Goddess of Gold & Silver Aurelia, had chosen him to be the sovereign ruler of the angelic race.
So why now? Why, in that single, critical moment, had he acted with such rashness?
The truth was far more insidious than a simple lapse in judgment.
It was the creeping, invisible corrosion of mental contamination.
