"From the Upper City District to Mist Shield Manor on the main street?"
Upon hearing Fang Hong's words, Diket and Misu stopped and looked at him with so surprise. It appeared that Lord Praetor's behavior was inconsistent—the Upper City District and Hustings Cathedral were not in the sa direction, and that path was not only a roundabout way but also troubleso.
Luen Linxiu had already begun shaking his head, looking at him: "Why choose this path, Mr. Luen? It seems quite unnecessary."
Fang Hong glanced at the scepter in his hand, which on the surface did indeed seem pointless, but that was only on the surface.
If everything followed the logic of reality, the power of the Dragon's Golden Eyes within this Phantom Realm should have been unmatched, and it should have already escaped its confines—
But that had not happened, had it?
It seed that everyone here had forgotten that point.
The virtual landscape of Dolifen on the surface repeatedly reenacted the disaster from thirty years ago, and the people and things within the Phantom Realm seed to follow everything from the past, like a profound fate, where reflections in the mirror could never change.
But it was not such a mirror, ticulously reflecting every detail of the past for all to see.
"Do you rember the horde of undead from before? I'm sure that thirty years ago, nothing like that happened in Dolifen—that was the Dragon's Golden Eyes ddling from behind," Fang Hong said calmly to the others: "Haste makes waste, Mr. Luen."
"But what has that got to do with you going to the Upper City District? It still seems unnecessary to , perhaps you have your reasons, but you must tell us what is in the Upper City District."
Luen looked at him seriously.
What was in the Upper City District? Perhaps nothing at all, but what was about to unfold there might completely change all the rules here.
In a detail so insignificant that no one had realized it.
Fang Hong also felt a resistance emanating from the scepter in his hand, which was the strong emotion of Dolifen's Chief Praetor—the old man's desire for vengeance was growing stronger, as he seed to have forgotten everything else from thirty years ago.
"So stubborn."
Fang Hong gripped the scepter more tightly, shaking his head firmly in his mind: "Count Declan Groselle, if you wish for vengeance, this is your only chance to overco the Dragon's Golden Eyes."
But the resistance in the scepter in hand beca more intense, mixed with the power of the Dragon's Golden Eyes. The other master of this Phantom Realm, though seemingly unaware of what he intended to do, was already instinctively feeling uneasy.
Indeed, uneasy.
Fang Hong said nothing, forcefully suppressing the scepter's unrest until it gradually subsided.
Because the unease of the Dragon's Golden Eyes was not going to shake him; instead, it only strengthened his resolve. He wasn't afraid that the hidden hand behind the scenes would catch on, because the answer had always been there.
But it was indulging in its own power and arrogance.
And how could it bow down in this insignificant Phantom Realm to a group of powerless mortals?
"Are you seeking a way to suppress the Dragon's Golden Eyes?" Of the three, it was Misu who reacted first. True to her heritage as a descendant of the Dragon Slayer, she was keenly aware of the source of Nikopolas's power.
The older knight, who had always looked up to this lady, also kept silent without expressing his opinion.
It was only Luen who, after hearing Misu's words, asked Fang Hong: "What are you thinking?"
Fang Hong thought nothing; he just shook his head.
"You know what happened thirty years ago, Mr. Luen," he said, looking at Luen Linxiu, his words intelligible only to him and the latter: "The Morning Knights might hold off the Dragon Worshippers temporarily, but they couldn't stop Nikopolas."
Fang Hong looked toward Grey Oak Square in the direction of the golden-red sky, full of Mars, as if the scene from a short while ago had reenacted itself.
Buth at this mont, the sea of fire felt more real, as the buildings burned and collapsed within the flas, letting out a screeching sound, as if dragging everything back to the disaster from thirty years ago.
Nikopolas's revival was imminent. When it spread its wings to cover the sky, the Dragon's Golden Eyes within the Phantom Realm would also gain full power.
Just like the mont the disaster struck Dolifen thirty years ago.
The Dark Giant Dragon had destroyed the city, and today it only needed to break free from the last shackle—the mont the Blade of Vanity shattered, it seed to be only a step away from its escape.
Of the three, Misu, after hearing Fang Hong's words, pointed in that direction and said: "Its power is indeed growing exponentially. I can faintly feel that it's about to awaken, and once it does, none of us can escape."
"But thirty years ago—" Luen said quickly.
But Fang Hong interrupted him decisively: "Mr. Luen, this is not thirty years ago. If everything follows as before, the Dragon Worshippers indeed co close to success, but have we succeeded? Just standing by and watching the city be destroyed again changes nothing; it has been like this here every day for thirty years. So, what aning do we have in being here?"
Luen was stunned.
He returned to this Phantom Realm simply to pursue the answer from back then. He ca back here to relive the old days, just to personally see the answer he had missed that day.
But did he want to change all this? To change a Phantom Realm—how ludicrous that sounds. What aning does it have?
Suddenly, Luen realized he had never thought about it.
Or rather, no one had ever thought about it—what was the point in changing a history that was destined to have already happened?
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