Claudio's face instantly turned ashen, his knuckles white from the tension.
The association's worst fears had come to pass.
The Holy Court's previous compromises were merely a facade for their future plans.
"So, you chose today to strike at Wu Heng." Claudio's voice was solemn, laced with anger.
The Pope calmly set down his teacup, his expression still serene.
There was no longer any need for disguise; the plan was set, and the association, even if they knew, was powerless to change it.
As always, if he's alive, the association might try to protect him.
But if he's dead, who would truly seek justice for a dead man?
"Perhaps it was just fate?" The Pope wore a benign smile.
"He is the registered leader of the association!" Claudio said angrily, "You no longer regard the association at all."
The Pope gently stroked the Holy Emblem embroidered with gold on his sleeve, his tone still calm, "Just a personal grievance, why elevate it to the level of the association?"
