Within the Crown Terrace, complete silence had fallen after the terrifying explosion of the airship. Even from this distance, the blast had shaken the reinforced windows, and the deep rumble still seemed to linger through the walls and beneath their feet.
No one had even had time to understand what had happened before someone intruded onto the stage, crossed the crimson carpet, and casually took the golden seat that had been prepared for the Saintess herself.
Every camera had turned toward the scene.
The giant screens showed a man covered in blood from head to toe. Blood soaked his clothes, stained his silver hair, and obscured most of his face. Yet his silver eyes remained visible through it all, cold and impossible to ignore.
"What the hell is happening?" Rodolf asked, immediately leaning forward from his previously relaxed position in an effort to get a clearer look.
"An enemy attack…" Victor muttered quietly beside him, narrowing his crimson eyes.
