"Move."
The voice, cold as iron, landed like a command, forcibly overwriting the consciousness of everyone present, yet the girl clearly had never opened her mouth.
Sudden pressure descended on every person, making even their breathing hitch. As if bewitched, both the Insect Race and the human army, that steel torrent of war machines, all unconsciously parted to open a road, its end pointing straight at the lieutenant.
Feeling the hostility coming from the girl, and staring at the soldiers standing there dazed and stupefied, the lieutenant's face twisted:
"What are you still hesitating for? This monster is no longer the Young Master. She's an imitator, or His Highness has already been converted by the Insect Race into a monster. Kill her, hurry up and kill her!"
