Though Michael could not personally head toward the capital immediately, that did not stop him from sending his regards to everyone involved in Arianne's death.
Of course, he did not actually know which individuals had merely followed orders and which ones had actively participated willingly.
But he knew the mastermind. Thanks to the memories harvested from the men aboard the flying ship, Michael could now recognize that person instantly, even if they met face to face for the very first time.
That alone was enough.
The Third Prince frowned while staring toward the flying ship before him.
Or more accurately, toward the figures standing beneath it.
Several dozen servants stood there motionlessly.
These were the people he had sent with his envoy to find trouble with that Mic Nor.
Yet right now, something about them felt wrong.
Very wrong.
Their expressions were completely blank.
Drool slowly leaked from the corners of their mouths.
Their pupils looked unfocused.
