Victory.
An unprecedented triumph.
All surviving mbers of the Martinos Clan were overjoyed.
They never expected such an outco.
Did they really win?
Clearly, everything seed irreversible.
Yet, as if a deity was secretly guiding them, they turned the tide at the crucial mont.
Could the prayer before departure really have worked?
Then, without knowing who started it, soone spontaneously knelt down amidst the blood-soaked dark battlefield, beginning to pray again, praising the na of the Dark Savior.
Soon, this prayer turned into a collective one, with the sounds of praise almost piercing the night.
Ethan, hidden in the shadows, felt the prayer’s power, and surprisingly, he noticed his stamina and strength slowly recovering.
Even the ’True God’s Na,’ which had reached a bottleneck, was subtly showing signs of change.
Though very slight, it was enough to prove one thing.
That is, his direction was correct, coming to the Royal Capital was right.
Vasini was also among the praying crowd, and he clearly understood what was happening.
There truly was a deity watching over them, even responding to him.
The Royal Capital Mafia would not perish; on the contrary, this was the eve of dawn, and everything would only get better.
Since you all want to abandon this banner, let take it up alone.
From now on, there will only be the Martinos Clan.
Vasini’s heart was already filled with absolute confidence and an indescribable sense of destiny.
It was destiny that the gods chose him, there must be a reason for it.
The underground landscape of the Royal Capital was due for a change.
After gathering the surviving family guards, Vasini took them back to the Sanctuary.
Once the wounded were taken care of, Vasini went back alone into the depths of the Sanctuary to begin his prayer.
"Great Lord, thank you for granting us all, for saving us from peril, from today, I will spread your na!"
He made up his mind to start preaching from tomorrow, wanting to bring more people into the faith of darkness, strengthening their power.
However, the next mont, he heard a new response.
"Do not spread belief recklessly!"
"Only the devout may praise my na."
This startled Vasini.
He rejoiced that the deity had responded to him once again, but was secretly frightened, almost committing a taboo.
So he quickly said in fear and trembling, "Please forgive , I never intended to spread faith recklessly, I will carefully evaluate each person’s heart, ensuring that only the truly devout serve you!"
"Good."
After this response, no matter what Vasini said, the deity did not respond again.
But his heart was fiery, and he had a preliminary plan; his heart had quietly changed.
Let’s start with the weak ones.
No ntion of how Vasini’s ambitions would be unearthed.
Ethan was already in a car heading ho.
As he got further from the South District, Ethan realized his connection with Vasini was weakening.
Currently, there seed to be a distance limitation, as only when close could he respond to and assist the other.
However, as Vasini’s faith grew more devout, and more people joined the faith, Ethan’s abilities should enhance.
Returning ho for a late-night snack, Ethan felt no sleepiness and picked up his brush to continue painting.
His personal exhibition was just around the corner.
To defeat Rubins at this exhibition and fully spread his theory, relying on the original few works wasn’t quite sufficient.
So he was preparing a major piece.
Entering the study which was already prepared, Ethan unveiled a near-completed work, pausing with the brush as he glanced towards the door.
As if sensing sothing, Anya quietly appeared there.
In the dim light, her erald eyes shone like stars.
————————
A new day.
The controversy stirred by yesterday’s Kingdom Deep Observation Report had not dissipated, and everyone was still engrossed in this artistic debate.
Many couldn’t wait to buy the latest issue of the Kingdom Deep Observation Report, just to see what new argunts had appeared today.
The results did not disappoint; there was still explosive content today.
The headline of the new issue was still eye-catching enough—
Ethan Polleta: Why Rubins’ Art Is Outdated.
There was no pretense, solely attacking Rubins.
Yesterday’s paper had so cover-up, with attacks beginning only in the body, but today, it was a direct offensive.
Yesterday, sharp reporters actually had found Rubins, intending to interview him and ask about his thoughts on Ethan’s view of his art being nonsense.
But Rubins did not grant any interviews.
Many people felt regret.
But with today’s paper out, if Rubins still didn’t respond, wouldn’t that seem a bit too cowardly?
Therefore, many gathered again at Rubins’ door, trying to get first-hand information.
But they didn’t expect that Rubins had already welcod a visitor at his ho.
This visitor was Herlosh himself.
On one hand, he was delighted that his newspaper’s sales had finally started to soar, giving his press a hope for survival.
On the other hand, he felt ashad of himself.
He wasn’t expanding his business through in-depth reporting, but rather through verbal wars, with news completely disconnected from grassroots livelihood.
Yet here he was this morning, for livelihood, for his dream.
"My master has said he will not see you, leave now, as he does not accept any form of interview."
Rubins’ servant maintained a poker face, showing a deanor of rejection from a thousand miles away.
Herlosh adjusted his expression, smiling, "Please inform him again that I am here at Mr. Ethan’s behest, rely to invite him to participate in this artistic discussion, or rather, this duel."
After a while.
A weary, red-eyed Rubins erged from his studio, visibly stressed and likely quite angry over the past few days.
"Are you here to provoke ?"
Rubins glared at Herlosh as if he were about to devour him.
"No, no, no, Mr. Rubins, I’m just here to convey Mr. Ethan’s words. Our newspaper is a fair and impartial platform, rely docunting current events, every word said, without distorting any facts, which is why Mr. Ethan wishes to initiate this discussion through our platform."
Herlosh knew Rubins was wavering, just a little more.
"If you’re not willing, we’ll reach out to other artists, I’m sure they..."
"No, I accept."
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