The Exile Party and the Preservation Party began to quarrel; some demanded a re-election, others wished for a verdict to be upheld, while some wanted to return home for dinner.
Watching the noisy citizens, Horn sighed deeply. Although it was subtle, the citizens of Rapids City had already made their choice.
"Whoa—"
The loud voice from the stage spread through the Sound Transmission Cultivators, echoing like an aged shout.
The citizens lifted their heads to look towards the high stage, only to see Horn trembling all over, his eyes and mouth tightly shut, arms continuously performing a breaststroke in the void.
Of course, he did not perform the convulsions and the grim face he did back then; firstly, the citizens couldn't see it, and secondly, they had high aesthetic demands and didn't need such a horror ambiance.
Is this the so-called "Holy Father's descent" by the Saint's Grandson?
