Gray did not answer immediately.
He stood in front of Veronica's tomb with his eyes lowered slightly, as if weighing the Saintess's words with care.
The night breeze moved through the graveyard, stirring the ends of his black hair. To anyone watching, it looked as though he was seriously considering the offer.
The Saintess waited patiently.
She had expected hesitation.
An opportunity of this scale was not something a cultivator from the lower plane could accept or reject in a single breath.
Aurora, still standing behind her, glanced at Gray once before looking away again.
After a long moment, Gray raised his eyes.
"I refuse."
His voice was calm and clear.
The Saintess continued speaking as if she had not fully registered the words.
"You do not need to decide tonight," she said gently.
