A heavy silence engulfed the group after they heard the oldest man explain the cause behind the wound William had suffered on his way to the Tower.
"Marked? What do you mean?" Emma broke the silence, her brows knitting together as she looked at her father.
Vitori clasped his hands behind his back and answered calmly, as though recounting an old lesson rather than something that could shake the very foundation of the two people before him.
"During the era of the Great War, when both sides were consumed by endless violence, there were moments when the balance tipped too far. Whenever the Dark side began overwhelming the good, the Divine Ones intervened through their Apostles."
He paused briefly, letting his words sink in.
"At times like that, the Divine Ones left marks. Some were placed upon Apostles as blessings, while others were carved onto Devil Generals as signs. A declaration that this particular existence held great importance and must be eradicated before anything else."
