It took about two days before Zarilan gathered a considerable number of clan leaders to co into their city. Their Lionheart clan had a considerable influence among the other clans.
Before the central city and the three nations succeeded, they heeded more of Zarilan’s words. This was for the survival of their world, and instead of clinging to the three nations, they liked to band together more.
After all, while what happened to the central city was regrettable, they were far from the center of the chaos. At least for now.
Zarilan t Halwyn, the prophet of the Silverfeather Clan. She looked calm; her aningful gaze landed on Zarilan. For so reason, Zarilan could not et her eyes.
Halwyn rely smiled aningfully and narrowed her eyes. She went and patted Zarilan’s shoulder and gave a few vague words before she went inside the eting room.
"This is our hope. Sotis to survive, we need to abandon sothing."
Zarilan watched her back; her words rang in his mind. He could not help but swallow; his throat bobbed in tension.
Eventually, he sighed.
"I hope we’re really doing the right thing." He could only mutter these words helplessly.
Everyone was here, and he could only walk forward on this path until the end. Once every clan leader and their entourage entered the eting hall, the massive door abruptly closed.
The impact created a rather ominous sound.
So could not help but frown, sensing sothing was amiss. While others directly glanced at Zarilan to see or ask what was going on, they all noticed that, like them, Zarilan was sitting on the sa level as them.
Although it would not matter usually, since they were all clan leaders, as a host, they thought Zarilan would sit in the seat of honor.
The halls were arranged in a way that they were all sitting and facing the seat of honor, which, for so reason, looked like a throne.
It was as though they were there to gather in a royal eting instead of an equal eting of clan leaders. And they were waiting for the king to arrive.
"What’s going on?" Murmurs started to spread among the clan leaders. Their entourage also could not help but be vigilant and started to look around.
They could not help but suspect that there were so tricks at play here, but none of them were certain. After all, what was Zarilan and the Lionheart Clan’s motive for harming them?
They were all in the sa destroyed boat; any mont and they would sink. Each of the clan leaders present was the one who insisted on unification.
None were dumb enough to start a fight against each other.
They also could not help but look at Halwyn Silverfeather, the prophet, who had considerable prestige among them. Seeing her not say anything and calmly sit beside Zarilan, they all beca intrigued.
For a mont, everyone exchanged glances and whispers.
Zarilan did not explain. And he was only waiting.
Suddenly, the light in the eting hall seed to dim significantly. They could not help but look up to see if so of the lights malfunctioned, and so did the lamps at the sides.
Seeing they were shining brightly, so could not help but furrow their brows. The dimming of the hall had nothing to do with the lights at all.
Unbeknownst to them, through the shadows, sothing began to creep into every corner of the hall. This created a sinister chill that perated the air, dropping the temperature.
"Zarilan! Tell us what’s going on?"
The others could not suppress their anxiety any longer.
"You gathered us here for what exactly?"
Zarilan remained tight-lipped, and so were the other elders in the crowd. So had bad tempers to begin with. They cursed at Zarilan, and when a fight seed about to break out, an unprecedented pressure descended.
This pressure almost made them kneel as they gritted their teeth and observed the others. They also looked shocked, but those sitting properly only felt a slight pressure.
The others returned to their seats and found that the pressure truly lessened. Before they could process what was happening, black fire suddenly erged from the walls and the floors and completely surrounded the whole hall.
"What, what is this?"
"Wait... Black fire?"
The murmurs beca louder as panic began to seep in.
"Isn’t this the sa..." The person could no longer continue; he felt a sudden chill spreading throughout his body.
An imminent threat! Everyone sensed danger.
Unknowingly, they had fallen into a trap. They were now caught in the net. They could fight, but their instincts told them that they would die.
The minute they tried to escape, nothing would be left of them, not even their souls.
Realizing this, they could not help but swallow tensely. Their eyes landed on Zarilan. Countless resentnts were poured on Zarilan, making his whole body drenched in sweat.
He could only grit his teeth and accept them all. This was indeed his fault.
A minute or two passed, and then footsteps rang. One person... No, two persons’ footsteps echoed throughout the hall. Slowly, they appeared to everyone’s eyes.
It was two n. One with silver hair intimately embracing a taller man’s arm. There was a smirk on his lips; his eyes sparkled as he swept through the crowd.
The man beside him had a cold expression; his crimson pupils were emphasized by the darkness. He did not look at the crowd, and his gaze never left the man with silver hair.
Obviously, it was Rise and Kamille.
Rise was quite excited. Not to the point of being overwhelming, but he found the situation very interesting. All of his plans were sothing he thought of, and there were plans that he created on a whim.
This was one of the latter. He only thought of it a couple of days ago. And his lovely guild leader truly wanted to make it happen.
It was like how so promised to give you the world to proclaim their love. Kamille was not just talking about it; he would truly do it. Who would not want their lover to spoil them?
And this was the first of that step.
Rise was curious about what made this world special. He was looking forward to discovering that.
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