The gentle breeze of the sea brushed against Hex's face. It helped a little to calm the storm raging in his mind.
'It seems the things in her Diary are true to the point of Grandpa being abusive. I am happy. And I am angry too.'
Hex stood without speaking and without showing any expression on his face. He mastered masking his feelings a long time ago. The Saint, however, wasn't fooled by him.
I too felt enraged. I nearly went berserk. But before the Old One, I couldn't do anything. As time passed, I started to do whatever those two asked of me. Medea turned into a distant memory. Until…I was tasked with apprehending her.
"Why?" Hex asked. The Saint's short story pulled him out of his torn-up thoughts and compelled him to inquire. "And who ordered you to do so?"
The Old One.
The Saint replied, replying to the second question first.
I was seldom near Wrixia – to this day I am only there when needed – so I didn't know what she had done. I learned later what she had done.
