She couldn't help but say with a sneering tone, "Dear Captain, you're just under Level 5, aren't you?"
She had wanted to say sothing else, but suddenly, the room stirred with wind, and a whirlwind seed to appear out of nowhere, causing the paper slips she had carelessly thrown to the floor to dance in the air, shredding into pieces and dust, dissipating into nothingness.
It wasn't just the dust and paper slips on the floor.
The entire office was engulfed in this whirlwind, even Xiesta, who had been searching for sothing in a pile of old papers, unexpectedly turned around.
Only Fang Hong stood unaffected by the whirlwind, as if he could casually stand in the midst of the raging wind.
Completely motionless.
He looked at Hilveld and said, "Do you rember what I said earlier, Miss Hilveld?"
"Because this is the final scene—"
"Hustings Cathedral."
"For thirty years it was obscured by mist, but a voice from the beyond has guided us here. These are the nas on this list, the innocent Sacrifices, such is their Power."
"Insignificant as it may seem, it's not without the power to change."
"And perhaps they should be thankful to Hudi—"
"Because soone always needs to step forward."
Fang Hong took a step out of the whirlwind, looking sowhat somber, even though he had been unsure what to call the overflowing emotion in his chest until now.
But now he understood.
It was called anger.
With such asured anger, he slowly extracted sothing from his chest and laid it on the dean's desk under Hilveld's watchful eyes.
It was a brooch—
The black badge, outlined with dark silver edges, seed as if it had been polished by many years and handled by many people.
The black backdrop had absorbed blood, dried up after bleeding, leaving behind a historical witness.
Reflecting the moonlight, it glimred faintly dark.
Then the wind stopped.
It ceased abruptly, and the paper slips fluttered down, as if an invisible hand grasped them, restoring them page by page to their original places.
The whirlwind had swept every speck of dust from the ancient, decrepit office, leaving it as pristine as it was decades before.
It was the era of its imperious master.
The curtains were properly drawn open, and the moonlight outside was frighteningly bright, like satin, or fringe, or a gleaming stream.
It flowed softly in the quiet room.
The empty Silver Moon, however, was only half full.
Hilveld stared at the moonlight for a mont, then hurried to read the latest docunt on the desk, half-written, the ink still fresh.
She skipped straight to the date.
For thirty years, the Phantom Realm of Dolifen had been unchanged, frozen four days before the festivity—
The noble young girl turned back to Fang Hong, watching him in silence.
But Fang Hong only gazed at the side wall of the office—there hung many portraits, and the face of one of the girls appeared slightly tense,
Strikingly familiar to him.
The brooch on the table seed to be shimring.
Then he thought, now, let himself see what exactly happened thirty years ago—
Suddenly, a faint noise ca from outside the door.
A man's voice, sowhat familiar to him, began outside, "Misu, step back a bit, I'll open this door. Let's see what kind of sches these folks are up to inside!"
Fang Hong turned around.
He just caught a glimpse of the surprise that flashed across Hilveld's face, "That voice is...?"
At that mont, the door was thrust open with a 'bang'.
Three people stood outside.
It was an aging Knight, not yet bearing the weather-beaten look of later years, his face stern and filled with righteous indignation, his gaze unwavering and clear.
The other person Fang Hong had not t before, but he had heard of him. He rembered how Tianlan had described this man: cunning, crafty, hardly human in shape.
But here, he was just a green and unripe youth, with curly black hair, sowhat handso, with a ruddy face like an apple, standing at the back of the trio.
Fang Hong knew his na.
Luen Linxiu, Chairman of the Black Goat Comrce Association.
As for the last girl, she was looking in Fang Hong's direction.
...
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