Marshall Lowell was startled, but his expression remained calm. He took a sip of tea and said impassively, "Cripple a mber of your clan? What are you talking about?"
His imposing aura imdiately dampened the Sherwood Clan’s fiery indignation.
The leader, Sonya Sherwood, had a delicate appearance. Her eyes were red-rimd, tears welling up, and her voice trembled on the verge of sobs.
"Martial King, Yves knows his mistake. Please, remove the Power from his body. He’s being tortured by it—his ridians are severely damaged and his internal injuries are grave. If this continues, his Martial Arts will be destroyed. I beg you, please spare him!"
Upon hearing this, the Martial Artists from other countries in the room instantly grew wary. Their gazes toward the Lowell Family were now filled with vigilance.
It was only then that Marshall Lowell rembered that faint trace of Power, and a chill went down his spine.
’If soone truly crippled his Martial Arts on purpose, then their intentions are truly sinister,’ he thought. ’They’re deliberately trying to sow discord between the Lowell Family and the Sherwood Family.’
After a mont of contemplation, Marshall Lowell replied, "I didn’t do this. But I know who did. There is another Martial King in this room!"
Marshall Lowell’s words were like a bomb, setting off a chaotic explosion among everyone in the room.
A shocked murmur rippled through the crowd as everyone looked around, trying to find the second Martial King.
Alvin Morgan discreetly used his body to shield Aurora Sinclair.
On the other side, Sonya Sherwood was also stunned. She scanned the people in the room, her heart filled with disbelief.
’Martial Kings aren’t cabbages you can find on any street corner, are they?’
’Maybe the Lowell Family’s Martial King is just trying to be mysterious.’
"How do you know there’s another Martial King in the room?"
But Marshall Lowell said coolly, "My fellow martial artist, would you please step forward and clarify things? I already know who you are..."
The Power from his body pressed down on a bearded man and his companions. With a CRASH, all the chairs next to them toppled over.
All eyes instantly turned to them, filled with scrutiny.
The bearded man and his group were Martial Artists from so small country. They were confused for a good while, but after a translator explained the situation, their faces changed. They shook their heads frantically, spouting words no one else could understand.
Arthur Lockwood glanced at them. He had a feeling this had nothing to do with them. Then he looked over at Alvin Morgan and Aurora Sinclair.
’How could one of those two be a Martial King?’
Arthur Lockwood’s lips curved into a self-deprecating smile. ’How could I even have such a ridiculous thought?’
The translator relayed what the bearded man’s group had said. "They say their country has no Martial King. Their highest-ranked expert is a Grandmaster. If you don’t believe them, they’re willing to be tested..."
The crowd turned back to Marshall Lowell, a hint of doubt about his claim creeping into their minds.
An Elder from the Sherwood Clan imdiately challenged him, "Sir, how can you prove you weren’t the one who did it?"
Marshall Lowell was displeased by the Sherwood Clan’s doubt, but he knew that if this wasn’t handled properly, it could spark an international incident. The Guardians would be the first to co after him.
"There is another way. If you can transfer that Power into , I will be able to feel who it belongs to."
The proposal sounded far-fetched. The Elder was deeply dissatisfied and said sternly, "Martial King of Veridia, I will report this matter to the International Martial Alliance! Let the Alliance decide who is right and who is wrong!"
Hearing this, Marshall Lowell slamd his hand on the table. "Are you threatening ?"
A potent surge of Power shot straight toward the Elder’s chest. Sonya Sherwood’s face paled as she cried out in alarm, "Martial King, please, calm your anger—"
Marshall Lowell snorted coldly, and the surge of Power instantly dissipated.
The scene froze.
The Sherwood Clan, facing superior force, could only swallow their anger, their faces etched with frustration.
Hugo Lowell, seeing the strange looks from the people of other countries and not wanting to earn a reputation for bullying others with power, spoke in a placating tone, "Our Martial King has always been upright and honorable. He would never do sothing as vile as destroying soone’s Martial Arts. Sherwood Clan, where is your young man? Let us see if he can still be saved."
"In the dical room..."
"Lord Warner, please co with ."
The leaders of the Seven Great Families moved from the banquet hall to the dical room.
Yves Sherwood lay on the bed in agony. A dozen or so needles were stuck in his body, and on his exposed skin, blue veins bulged as if sothing was coursing through his ridians.
Blood trickled from his seven orifices. He looked as miserable as soone who had suffered a qi deviation during their training.
No wonder the Sherwood Clan was so furious.
Emil Warner was shocked at the sight and quickly walked to his side to take his pulse.
After a mont, Emil Warner suddenly said, "The Lowell Patriarch, I will need your help in a mont to force this Power out."
He then took several long needles from a dicine box beside him and inserted them into several major acupoints on Yves’s body.
Imdiately after, Emil Warner forced the small stream of Power into the arm. Marshall Lowell struck swiftly. A pained scream rang out, but the Power wasn’t expelled. Instead, it began to circulate even faster.
It even forced the needles Emil Warner had inserted right out of the body.
"This is..."
Emil Warner wiped the sweat from his forehead, his face pale with shock.
The Power was now racing through Yves Sherwood’s body.
Yves Sherwood coughed up even more blood in agony. Just as his Vitality seed about to fade, a figure swiftly appeared at his side, striking several of his major martial acupoints with clean, precise movents.
"Aurora—"
Arthur Lockwood’s face went white with fear.
’Even Lord Warner couldn’t do anything. If she kills him, she’ll never be able to shake the bla of having offended the Sherwood Clan.’
But Aurora Sinclair’s fingers were moving incredibly fast. Her two joined fingers traced along Yves Sherwood’s ridians.
She directly intercepted the tyrannical Power. This was an extrely dangerous act; if the Power accidentally traveled through the ridians and into her own body, she would beco the second victim.
Hugo Lowell and Zane Lockwood were horrified and imdiately shouted, "Don’t—"
But Aurora Sinclair’s other hand had already struck. With a loud BANG, the Power shot out of Yves Sherwood’s body through an acupoint and slamd violently into the ceiling.
In an instant, a round hole appeared before them. Everyone was so aghast they were speechless for a long ti.
The Strength of this Power was terrifying!
The look of agony on Yves Sherwood’s face finally vanished.
Aurora Sinclair then struck a few more of his acupoints, with the last one on his Qi Sea. A gentle stream of Power flowed from her through his ridians and into his body.
Everyone in the room was stunned by the scene before them.
At that mont, no one dared to make a sound. The room was so quiet it was as if Aurora Sinclair were the only one there.
The crowd could finally feel the fluctuation of Power from her. It was still faint, so peaceful that it was almost nonexistent.
A little over ten minutes later, Aurora Sinclair assud a centering stance and slowly withdrew the Power back into her body.
Her face was a little pale. She opened her eyes and t Emil Warner’s probing gaze, giving him a slight nod.
Emil Warner imdiately took Yves Sherwood’s pulse. The rampaging Power in his body had stabilized significantly. With proper rest, he would recover.
Aurora Sinclair glanced at Alvin Morgan, strode over quickly, and supported him. "Morgan," she said seriously, "let’s go back!"
"Okay..."
Under everyone’s gaze, she practically half-carried Alvin Morgan out of the room.
"Wait..." Emil Warner called out.
Aurora Sinclair turned to look at him and saw him striding over with a solemn expression. He took Alvin Morgan’s wrist.
"He has a cold and a fever. Where are you taking him?"
And just like that, Alvin Morgan was also lying on a sickbed.
Aurora Sinclair sat quietly beside him, watching Emil Warner administer acupuncture.
"Miss Sinclair, who taught you acupoint striking?"
"Apothecary Warner."
Emil Warner’s gaze sharpened. He pursed his lips and studied her for a mont before saying in a low voice, "Report to the Apothecaries’ Guild in a few days."
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