iors were shameless enough to cast spells like earth spikes, they could even restrict the agility of the fighters.While the rules don't technically forbid carrying weapons like equipment cards, since...Chapter 351: Principal Lan's Master of Subtle Manipulation

"Uh..."

Angelo stared in disbelief, his mouth agape, tears and saliva running down his cheeks, all he could manage was a hoarse, pained sound.

The elite never ceased their assault. Taking advantage of Anelno's inability to dodge while surrounded, they accurately pierced his lower leg with an ice spike. The chilling, bone-deep magic caused Anelno to feel as though his leg had been severed, losing all feeling.

His head was pressed to the ground by a pair of large hands, and several others began to stab him with icicles like starving tigers. The icicles pierced his hands and feet, his shoulders and trousers, blood immediately soaking his dark grey coat and then freezing instantly.

He could feel only a fleeting moment of pain before he lost sensation. The icy, terrifying touch nearly brought out an instinctive scream from Agnello.

Lastly, his body gradually lost feeling, the color drained from his face, leaving it as pale as paper. He could only stare blankly, unable to resist or do anything about what was happening.

Even if his limbs were cut off right now, he probably wouldn't feel any pain.

The provincial Demon King's personal guards calmly bound Anhelo, completing their mission for the day.

Even if other Bishops' sons and daughters were chosen, to dare to cause trouble in the city-state proactively and easily enter this room filled with restrictive magic circles imposed on mages, surrounded and hunted by a well-coordinated group of warriors, even at the peak of sixth rank there would be no room for maneuver.

"You... you..."

Agneov lay on the ground, straining to look ahead.

Lord Quentin's expression seemed to have changed entirely. He stood there, coldly staring at Anhelo, as if looking at a lamb about to be slaughtered.

Though numb, cold, and weak with fear and anger, Agnello did not give up.

His voice was hoarse, but he still roared with anger: "I am Angelo! The Harbinger of the Resurrection Church! Lord Kingston, do you know what you're doing!"

He swore that no matter what, he would bring this border noble family to the utmost punishment!

"The Nirvana Child, huh That's pretty impressive. Go on, I'm listening."

Quintens seemed utterly unconcerned by Anello's threat, simply nodding as if placating an angry child.

Sir Quintus! You've caused a huge scandal! You are committing a crime!! You will be tried by the Imperial Military Court!!"

Although Anelo's body was severely injured, his spirit remained unbroken.

He continued to try various methods to threaten Lord Quintinston, but Lord Quintinston just sneered and completely ignored him.

"A military court, you say You know about that"

Lord Kensington laughed, and with him the provincial elite holding back Angelo smirked with derision.

Even a ghost party still dares to put on a brave face and scare them here.

"Are you crazy Lauren's here! Lauren's come to the Northern Continent!! I have to contact Imperial City Herlome!!"

Angel's words began to choke with his cough, each cry draining him of life.

Anello, gradually feeling his mental state crumble, finally understood the folly and absurdity of this group of snowfield nobles.

If they come here, they may even dare to kill the emperor.

But Lord Quinton's gaze remained unwavering, a flicker of pity in his eyes, even the other elite soldiers bore a similar look.

Lord Quintus did not change his attitude as Agnello had hoped. He looked down at the subdued Agnello, shaking his head and smiling: "How ridiculous, a 'Son of Silence' weeping and begging here, you have truly gone mad."

The entire office atmosphere grew even more eerie and heavy after Lord Quinston's words. It was no longer the office of a governor, but rather resembled a segregated ward in a psychiatric hospital.

Agnello wanted to calm his near-shattered emotions, but he could barely manage it.

Aeneo's pleas and struggles became the only sound in the ward, a stark contrast to Lord Quinton's cold laughter. This scene was like a vicious cycle: the more Aeneo tried to prove himself, the more Lord Quinton dismissed him as insane.

Also, it brought an unprecedented sense of despair to Agnello.

He could never escape this fate of being misunderstood and ridiculed. The truth he knew, enough to shake the Empire to its core, was meaningless before these people of the snow.

He suddenly realized.

Lord Kensington's eyes, movements, and smile all betrayed a strange new quality he had never shown before.

This province—or more accurately, this governor's mansion—was utterly different from anything he'd known. Every detail, every word, every interaction gave him a sense of otherworldliness, as if he had crossed into a parallel universe and found himself in a completely different nightmare realm.

Hanging by the edge of his desk, a faint buzzing from the mouthpiece of that half-empty phone was still continuing. It chilled Anello's heart with its eerie communication, becoming a distant echo.

"Sir, it seems everything is going smoothly."

Again, a voice came from the other end of the phone.

"Report to the Governor, a set of six-tiered magic-repeling nails has been inserted into the prisoner's body according to specifications."

Quinton looked at the desk and said.

Although there was no one behind his desk, he acted as if reporting his progress diligently to an invisible person seated there.

At this moment, Anello finally realized that since he entered the Governor's Mansion, it was the person on the other end of the line who had been manipulating these people from the Snowy Province.

But he couldn't understand, what evil psychic control magic had the high priest Loren used to make the Protos Empire people so frenzied and selflessly serve him!

Move him five meters to the left, so he's facing the couch in the office.

From the speaker, a crackling sound intertwined with the man's gentle voice.

Like a blunt knife, it slowly cuts into Amedeo's soul and dignity.

"Yes."

Sir Quentin's response.

Several elite guards immediately carried Aniello from the ground and placed him in front of the sofa in the governor's office.

"Angelo, I didn't expect you to arrive at my governor's mansion so soon. I haven't even had time to welcome you in person."

The clear voice coming from the microphone echoed in the office, every word sounding so calm, composed, and amiable.

Agnello found it even harder to bear.

But it doesn't matter.

Until the voice in the headset became increasingly three-dimensional and hallucinatory, the outside of the room also gradually began to overlay with the same voice.

Finally, two figures walked into the Governor's office.

The light shone on the two of them, like a brilliant streak of brilliance.

Lance's suit and coat billowed in the wind, his deep-set eyes seemed to smile and contemplate. He held a communication spell in his left hand, and cradled a black kitten in his right, its long tail expertly winding around his wrist.

After he and Sid stepped into the office, they were like masters returning to their own manor. They sat down on their sofa and looked at Angelo lying on the floor.

"Angelo, I believe that all encounters are reunions after a long absence."

When Agnello heard Lanci's calm voice, his heart hammered like a drum and he felt a chill run down his spine.

He trembled as he lifted his head, meeting those eyes still radiating charm, emerald green like the clearest spring lake.

Even though this man has changed his appearance now, with brown hair, his eyes and voice have remained the same from beginning to end.

It is this very man who, earlier, offered him a brief respite and now once again becomes the nightmare he cannot escape.

There is another chapter later.

(The End)

【】create this "Fake Slate - Wind", one must have studied the original "Primal Slate - Wind," and its materials must inevitably come from the "Primal Slate - Wind." This means her Saint Son must have def...