Northern Glaciers, The Archbishop's Hidden Lair
Seated beside Domtes and Bibros, Benedict gazed calmly at Tiberius and Hieronymus.
The atmosphere seemed normal, yet an invisible, lethal tension—perceptible only to those above a certain power level—was steadily rising. Even for two peak fourteenth-tier Holy Knights, the escalating pressure was becoming unsettling.
In moments like these, even the normally talkative Bibros chose to remain silent. After all, they knew Archbishop Benedict. In his century-long life, there had been fewer than a handful of moments when their master, despite his calm exterior, had been this furious. The last time he had looked this composed was when he had fallen victim to the scheming of older Archbishops, losing the opportunity to claim territory.
After what felt like hours of silence, though only mere seconds had passed, Benedict finally lifted his head and looked at his two subordinates. "Do you know how the other two groups died?"
