"Pfft!"
Margaret spat out fresh blood, her gaze somewhat dispersed.
But she wasn't completely dead yet, desperately clinging to her last breath, she turned her head towards Colin's location.
However, Colin's figure had long since disappeared!
Only a faint sentence still lingered in the night wind—
"Goodbye, Margaret… my lady."
"Hehe—"
As the voice was carried by the night wind into Margaret's ears, her expression turned sour, and even her dispersed gaze focused momentarily in anger,
She seemed to want to say something as she moved her lips...
But blood kept pouring out,
And ultimately, Margaret couldn't utter a complete sentence and lost her breath.
Just after Margaret had lost her breath, a somewhat raw voice suddenly came through.
"How does the taste of anger feel? Isn't it quite wonderful?"
The frail Priest's figure slowly flew in from the night sky.
