It was evening.
Way too much had happened in the course of a single day.
Two delegates were killed in cold blood, my father apologised then threw me into a war, and my aunt gifted me a new right arm.
Yet something told me that the incoming months were going to become even more hectic.
My mind couldn't help but wander back to what I had just learned about the Crimson Guild — that they already had enough influence to easily slip their members into the ranks in my family.
Bad…
Very bad.
The entire situation was much worse than I had expected.
If I remembered correctly, at this point in time, the Syndicate must've been almost done with their preparations for awakening the Queen of Black Rot.
In fact, they must've already chosen Saint Inyasa as a prospective candidate to be the vessel they'd inject the Spirit King's dark ichor in, turning her into a beast by corrupting her soul so that the Most Profane One himself could make her his general.
