"No way! They’re a renowned Supernatural Organization, and they’re giving up just like that?"
Lance had no idea what kind of trouble he had just caused the Seeker of Ons organization.
Anyway, he waited for a while but didn’t receive any new spiritual feedback, so he guessed the other party had chickened out.
If they can’t handle a bit of hardship, how will they ever achieve greatness?
Feeling restless without any "wool" to "shear," it was no wonder Lance looked as though he wished iron could turn into steel.
Still, the attitude of that old man just now made Lance realize his own strength was still far too lacking. Seeking cooperation with those powerful, large organizations was rely wishful thinking on his part.
They simply didn’t consider his level of strength worthy of their notice.
Lance’s previous wariness toward the Empire and the Church stemd from their strong territorial ambitions and their deeply rooted ruling foundations in the area.
Given that his own foundation was weak at the ti, seeking cooperation with them would have been like inviting a wolf into his ho or trying to skin a tiger alive; he would only end up being taken advantage of.
His interest in the Seeker of Ons was purely because the Romani’s nomadic nature didn’t conflict with his core interests. Additionally, he had grown sowhat confident in his gradually increasing strength.
Unfortunately, reality slapped him in the face, reminding him that his strength was still insufficient.
Lance wasn’t discouraged by this at all. However, both the Romani and the Seeker of Ons organization were now on his list.
This account must be settled!
In so ways, Tamara’s talent was indeed overwhelmingly powerful; she could detect unusual spiritual fluctuations even with the carriage separating them.
She was very knowledgeable about Spirit Communication Rituals; normally, such intense spiritual outbursts wouldn’t occur.
The only way such a situation could occur was if...
Growing unease made her anxious. It was her own carriage, yet she couldn’t enter and could only pace back and forth outside.
Fortunately, Lance didn’t make her wait long before he walked out. His welcoming smile montarily gave her an unrealistic illusion.
"How did it go?"
"It fell through. They look down on you. Actually, that’s quite reasonable; no organization tolerates traitors."
Lance said this with a smile, clearly still in a fairly relaxed mood.
His words emphasized Tamara’s current status, planting an unremovable thorn called "reality" in her heart.
Since things with the Seeker of Ons had already soured, Lance had no intention of indulging them. He directly began to taunt her with veiled sarcasm, undermining her status and eroding any lingering fondness she had for the organization.
"Hmm, I guessed as much..."
Perhaps because she had anticipated this, Tamara was sowhat downcast but showed no other strong reaction.
She even managed to force a smile in agreent, though it was filled with bitterness.
Just when an escape from her troubles seed finally within reach, she was a fugitive again...
"That’s right. So, starting today, you belong to ."
Lance tossed out the remark with a laugh, leaving Tamara stunned. For a mont, she didn’t react, simply staring at him foolishly.
"Ah... this... Why?"
"There’s no why. I promised to help you resolve this matter, but I didn’t expect their attitude toward you to be so harsh. They even attacked directly when I brought it up. The negotiation failed. Since I can’t fulfill the promise I made to you, I have a responsibility to take care of you."
In just a few sentences, Lance completely positioned himself as the victim. His implied stance was: *it wasn’t that he hadn’t tried to resolve the problem, but simply that they wouldn’t agree. And now, despite their attack on him, he was still willing to take responsibility.*
This attitude from Lance struck Tamara directly in the heart.
However, the continuous blows over the past two days had left her sowhat disheartened. Facing this situation, she could only shake her head with a bitter smile.
"Enough. This is all because of my willfulness; it should all end now." Tamara shook her head with a bitter smile. "I’ll return the Sacred Object and face the punishnt. I can’t drag anyone else into this."
If she had harbored any illusions before, blaming Amanda for the main conflict, she now understood what the true problem was.
There is no greater sorrow than a heart that has died. Accustod to running away, she no longer wanted to struggle, nor did she see any need to drag Lance into the ss she had created.
"No! You belong to now. Nobody but has the right to lay a hand on you—and those are my words! If the Seeker of Ons wants to lay a finger on you, they’ll have to get through first."
Lance was overwhelmingly dominant, his words extrely forceful, directly negating Tamara’s statent.
How could he possibly let her give up on herself like that?
"They might look down on you, but you can’t look down on yourself. You should work even harder to fulfill your potential and show them that *they* are the ones who are wrong, not you."
Lance pried open her resolve and poured motivational words into her, and just a few sentences were enough to reignite Tamara’s suppressed indignation.
The more brilliant the genius, the prouder their spirit. A downfall wouldn’t crush it; instead, it would lie dormant, suppressed within, waiting for the day to erupt.
Now, incited by Lance, Tamara’s attitude gradually began to change.
"Then what should we do?" Tamara looked at Lance, her question clearly indicating she was now on his side.
"We’re not handing over the Sacred Object! We’re not handing over the carriage! We’re not handing over a single fucking thing!"
"But I promised them..."
"You promised *them*, but *I* didn’t promise anything. Now you belong to , so naturally, your things are mine too. If they want them, they can co ask for them."
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