He looked exactly as he had on the roof of the Star Tower Building, in the exact moment when he had sadistically thrown Regret Klaus off the building.
The god was a tall, impeccably elegant man with long flowing silver hair that caught the pale sunlight perfectly.
His luminescent glowing white eyes were completely devoid of human empathy, radiating arrogance.
He wore a pristine, highly elaborate suit of form-fitting, overlapping silver armor.
The metal was adorned from shoulder to boot with intricate glowing white runes that hummed audibly with a dense divine power.
The Second Soul king stood perfectly still.
His silver-gauntleted hands rested casually, lazily on the ornate jewel-encrusted pommel of an elegant thin silver-hilted rapier currently sheathed at his hip.
He didn't look like a grizzled warrior preparing for a brutal grinding deathmatch in the dirt… He looked like an untouchable aristocrat waiting patiently for a filthy peasant to finish groveling in the mud…
