CHAPTER 922
Charlotte's eyes widened to the absolute limit, as if she were staring directly at a ghost.
Her mouth hung agape in sheer horror.
Her hands grew weak, nearly slipping from the edge of the mattress as she gazed at the figure standing in the center of the room, looking for all the world as if he had never left.
Recognizing the crimson robes, the distinct posture, and the familiar height—even though the mask was currently absent—the informant trembled violently.
He took a shaky, involuntary step backward in fright, his breath hitching.
"He—he—"
"G-G-GREY? You are alive?!" Charlotte exclaimed in pure, undiluted shock as she shakily rose from the bed.
She struggled to accept that the person standing before her was real; it felt more like a cruel illusion than reality.
"Grey? You did all of this?" Max asked, his own eyes wide with disbelief.
The Supreme Magus casually crossed his arms over his chest.
