Exasperated, Crowley replied, “You’re the one who’s late.”
“Well, maybe a little. The rain was awful, you see.”
“What a poor excuse.”
“And I only just woke up.”
“That has nothing to do with the rain, don’t you think?”
“Ah, right you are,” Ferid gave a flippant laugh.
Honestly, what a frivolous slippery man. And God let this man live, yet killed Gilbert.
If that was how it worked, there was no meaning in observing the strict discipline of the Knights Templar and serving such a God.
Crowley let out a sigh, and a bitter smiled curved his lips. “Good gracious, all sorts of things go insane when you’re around.”
“Meaning?”
“Virtuous people die, while scoundrels have their way.”
“Naturally, I qualify as a virtuous person, right?”
“Hah,” Crowley snorted involuntarily.
Ferid chuckled at that, too. “You’re talking about late Gilbert, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, God loves virtuous people. No matter how the likes of me scream and shout, begging to die, Our Lord refuses to let us, as if saying, "Flippant people like you are forbidden from coming here”.“
"Haha, that makes you immortal, eh.”
“Maybe. Makes you jealous, doesn’t it?” Ferid cracked a ridiculous joke and laughed.
Watching that bewitching innocent smile, Crowley thought that maybe he was jealous of Ferid, if only a little. Ferid had no morals or piety, but for that precise reason he seemed to be free of the sorrows they caused. Just living the way he pleased. Drinking wine, sleeping with women and not hesitating to drown himself in immorality and corruption. Really, he was the devil of a man leading humans astray from the path of God.