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130: Ritualistic; tapping into the power of the mark

Beta'd by SnowyEgrett

As soon as his gaze fell on the statue, Lin FenXiang's breath faltered, hitching as he felt a shiver rake up his back.

“Why were you waiting for me here?“ He asked, barely managing to keep his voice stoic as he took a step back and dipped his head down.

As soon as his focus returned, Lin FenXiang's eyes widened, his pupils constricted as his beautiful brown eyes reflected the image under his feet.

A chill spread throughout his body as the Marquess of Wales' mouth fell open, for a short second, his brain screeched to a halt as his breath caught in his throat once more.

The place he was standing in, the floor under his feet, it was grey, ashen and somewhat worn out. Dark indistinguishable trails were drawn on it in a language the painter knew nothing of.