In the luxurious villa's grand hall, a sudden wind arose, and Heelanyang felt a chill ascend up his back, frightening him so much that the cigar in his hand dropped to the floor.
He shivered, quickly stood up, then turned around and bowed in sincere terror to the two figures who had appeared behind him.
"I greet the Black and White Holy Envoys!"
With trembling voice, Heelanyang began to speak, his voice brimming with endless respect and panic.
The villa, originally a bastion of comfort, seemed to chill in an instant as the temperature plummeted with the arrival of these two figures and a ghostly aura swirled upwards.
Heelanyang, standing there, felt as if an icy chill was drilling up from the soles of his feet, piercing straight through to the top of his skull, making his body's hair stand on end.
Opposite.
There stood two young men, dressed in long robes of black and white. Both had a morbid pallor to their faces, exuding a sense of repressive gloom.
