Miss Wang Weina, even your cousin won't do!

Most races on the continent of Terra have a special affection for their horns. Even the demons, who are slandered as lowly and whose horns are never touched, have a systematic maintenance process for their horns. The once noble Drak royal family is no exception. A genuine Drak dragon horn is perhaps the most convincing thing in the world.

Celt had intended to find something to do during the ceremony, such as questioning the authenticity and authority of the evidence, or challenging Talulah's identity, but her deep-seated pride in her Drak bloodline made it impossible for her to lie and say, "This isn't a Drak's horn." No matter what wrongs a deceased Drak had committed in life, as his brethren, Celt would stop at nothing to protect his honor.

Therefore, Talulah's identity needs no further confirmation. The red light flashing on the sword when she picked up Edward Atrias's sword and the slightly heated, distorted air around her confirm that she is indeed Edward's blood relative, a half-drachm.

Even the serum, being a fellow human, betrayed its own honor. Why? Doesn't Talulah want to rebuild her own kingdom? Celtic couldn't understand. Anyway, she had come to Londinium and never intended to leave unscathed. She decided to wait until after the ceremony to secretly follow Talulah and confront her in person.

However, just as she was planning her follow-up scheme, Wei Cao suddenly approached her and whispered a warning: "Sister, something's not right around us."

Unlike the Celts, Reed was not focused on Talulah, but on Vina. As Wayne's sister, this was the first time Reed had seen Vina in person. However, what puzzled Reed was that even Wayne's queen, Theresa, had attended the ceremony, but her most important brother was nowhere to be found.

She searched around for Wayne, but unexpectedly noticed the unicorns that had appeared around the Royal Park at some point, as well as soldiers of the Royal Army's Steam Armored Special Forces.

Reed's reminder immediately alerted Celt to the unusual surroundings. The previously crowded throng had dispersed considerably, and scattered groups of people in everyday clothes were now appearing in other areas of the park that had been restricted from opening during the ceremony. Upon closer inspection, it became clear that these individuals, in their gait, physique, and occasional conversations, were unlike ordinary people. They were gesturing to each other and rapidly shifting between several surrounding areas, forming a shrinking encirclement around the central venue.

what happened?

Celt bit his lip nervously. It wasn't surprising that a unicorn was here; Queen Aslan's body wasn't as robust as the Drakians'. A single bullet or crossbow bolt could kill her, so someone needed to be on guard. But the sheer number of plainclothes police, soldiers, and steam-armored troops was rather unusual.

Have they discovered me?

After much thought, Celt could only guess that her presence had been exposed, attracting these people. She gritted her teeth, grasped Reed's hand, and commanded:

“We might have been exposed. Those people are here to capture us. Reed, you run to the west side of the city, and I'll go to the east side. It'll be easier for us to escape if we split up. After we get out of the city, we'll meet at our temporary camp in the wilderness!”

Reed opened her mouth, about to say something to Celt, but Celt pushed her into the crowd, and she herself turned around and squeezed into the crowd.

Reed hesitated for a moment, and instead of fleeing towards the East District as Celt had suggested, she squeezed towards the center. Now was her best and last chance. As long as she could make contact with Brother Wayne and clear up the misunderstanding, she could find her sister in the West District. There would be no need to play dokidoki heartbeat with the unicorn. The civil war caused by Deep Pool could also be resolved.

To Weicao's surprise, the Celt who had darted into the crowd did not flee towards the west city at all, but instead crept towards the nobles who were participating in the ceremony.

She came for revenge. Just as she said, she didn't intend to leave unscathed. On the contrary, as long as she burned all those damned nobles, the resulting chaos would be enough to give Raphsini a chance to escape. She was absolutely certain of this!

At the same time, in the Royal Park of Londinium, around the ceremony venue.

Winster and Ernest were sitting in the command vehicle, remotely directing the unicorns and soldiers that were surrounding the entire venue area and gradually advancing towards the noble area via radio.

"First squad, ready."

"Second squad, ready."

"Third squad, ready."

"Unicorn, all surrounding [eyes] have been cleared, and the secrecy of the operation has been confirmed."

Reports reached the command vehicle accurately. Ernest and Winston, using a drone to take aerial photos, confirmed one last time that the encirclement of the meeting place was complete. They exchanged a glance and took a deep breath.

Ernest exclaimed, "This is truly the boldest thing we've ever done."

Winster nodded solemnly: "I am the history of Victoria, and I prove you right."

"Then, shall we report to Her Majesty the Queen and His Highness Wayne?"

After Ernest finished speaking, Winston turned on the microphone beside him and said:

"Reporting to headquarters, preparations are complete, the encirclement is complete, the broadcasting system is in place, Your Majesty, the ceremony may proceed to the next agenda item."

Vina on the stage received the message.

She handed the sword and dragon horn to Kal'tsit beside her, promising, as previously stated, that a Drak city would be built specifically to house various historical artifacts from the Drak reign, including the relics of the "last pure-blooded Drak," and that Talulah would be granted the title of Lord Atrias, with Drak city as her fief.

Then, she formally dismissed Talulah, who was kneeling on one knee to receive the imperial decree, and her pleased expression turned as she spoke:

"I think the guests present and the citizens of Lentinium have all noticed that on this day, which should be a time of celebration and joy in Victoria, Lentinium, the city of a thousand cities, is dressed in white."

“This is not my personal preference, but the wish of my most respected brother, His Highness Prince Victoria of Wales, Wayne Bruce.”

A moment of silence fell over the audience, then the first insincere cry of mourning came from the direction of the nobles:

"I had heard the news of the Prince of Wales' assassination attempt long ago, but I always thought it was a ridiculous rumor. I never imagined it was true! The Prince of Wales was compassionate to his people, so why did he suffer such an end? The assassin must be severely punished!"

Once someone starts, others immediately follow suit and echo their sentiments.

"The Prince of Wales was widely known for his benevolence. Although he had a bad reputation in his early years, he was a late bloomer. After abdicating to the Queen, he worked hard and devoted himself to his career. Unexpectedly, he died suddenly before he could make a difference for Victoria in this great era. That damned assassin was truly unforgivable!"

"Victoria has lost another pillar!" "How pitiful, how regrettable, how lamentable, how tragic!"

"How should we evaluate the life of the Prince of Wales? In my opinion, we should be fair and objective. His past dissolute behavior should be written about, and his achievements after growing up should also be written about. We cannot focus on one aspect and neglect the other, or be biased."

"But hasn't he had a chance to accomplish anything yet?"

“I heard that the eight-hour workday and the refugee bill were proposed by the Prince. He is so compassionate, why not give him the title of ‘The Compassionate One’?”

"The title 'Merciful One' doesn't sound quite right; it sounds like a saint's title from the Lateran Catholic Church. The Prince is a staunch Anglican, so it's inappropriate. How about this: Her Majesty the Queen is Victoria's loving mother, so how about calling His Highness the Prince of Wales 'Merciful Father'?"

Listening to the waves of discussion below the stage, and the comments from people who had already started popping champagne before even hearing the official announcement, and seeing their expressions of extreme regret on the surface but their faces beaming with joy and indifference on the other hand, Vina chuckled and slowly walked away from the center of the stage.

Without any prompting, Ernest immediately pressed the stage mechanism's rise button, and a rectangular pit slowly opened in the center of the stage, from which a magnificent black coffin rose gently from below.

A chorus of weeping erupted from the audience. Only Michael stared at the coffin, his face showing not sorrow, but rather disbelief and trembling fear!

In his view, there was no lifeless corpse inside the coffin, but instead a black hole of infinitely large spiritual energy that was constantly expanding and almost engulfing everything around it!

Vina gazed at the coffin for a moment, then nodded gently and whispered:

"It's up to you now, brother."

She turned around and abruptly walked off the stage.

The nobles exchanged bewildered glances, the guests exchanged bewildered glances, and even the commoners, who had somehow been evacuated and replaced by plainclothes soldiers, exchanged bewildered glances. Vina had suddenly left, leaving the stage empty except for a coffin. Was a coffin to preside over the ceremony?

At this moment, the leader among the nobles—Grand Duke Zeppelin—stepped forward.

The Queen's authority is now at its zenith, and she is deeply grieving the loss of a loved one. If one can seize this opportunity to preside over this ceremony in Her Majesty's stead, one will surely gain the Queen's trust and reliance in the future. Grand Duke Zeppelin never expected that even after he had plotted to "kill" Prince Wayne, he would still send him such a great gift. He forced a sincere and sorrowful expression and announced:

"Her Majesty the Queen must be overwhelmed with grief, so I will presume to preside over the memorial service for Prince Wayne. Now..."

"Everyone stand up!"

A passionate voice suddenly rang out from the stage, interrupting Grand Duke Zeppelin's somber tone. Under the horrified gazes of the nobles near the stage, the heavy coffin lid was slowly pushed open.

They thought the deceased prince, Wayne Bruce, his face covered in a dense network of sharp marks resembling spiderwebs, struggled to sit up slowly from his coffin. His voice, loud and agitated, was remarkably loud compared to his seemingly stiff body. His pupils, now filled with gold, swept over the seats of nobles and guests, a blindingly sunny smile appearing on his face, which, combined with his strange features, made him appear particularly eerie.

"Everyone stand up."

He repeated his command, and this time, almost without pause, everyone present stood up in unison, even those who had their legs crossed, those who were squeezed in the crowd, and those who were old or disabled and unable to stand. They still stood up and obeyed the king's order.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Wayne’s voice reached their hearts, or rather, seemed to resonate in their hearts, “I would like to say a few words about my memorial service.”

"I have returned from hell because I want to remind you all to remember this moment, a time that will be remembered. Some people, when observing a moment of silence for me, couldn't even be bothered to set a basic standard for time, which deeply disappoints me. What makes you so disrespectful? Am I, as you say, too 'merciful'?"

“I know that some of you, or all of you, are inextricably linked to this assassination attempt on me. I’m curious, what made you become traitors? What made you willing to betray the interests of the country, sell the blueprints for steam armor, sell the design concepts for war fortresses, sell finances, betray the country, betray the people, just to send me to hell? So…” He flicked his wrist, revealing an exquisite watch beneath the cuff of his luxurious aristocratic military uniform. “Now, please set the clock.”

“I obtained this list from hell. This list is absolutely true. There will only be omissions, not errors. Everyone whose name I call will have five minutes to recount their inner journey. Those who can convince me, gain my sympathy, and win my mercy will have the opportunity to go to heaven. Otherwise, I will send you to hell.”

Nobles, guests, civilians who had been evacuated and replaced by plainclothes soldiers, and even the unicorn bell ringer who punctually tolled the bell on the towering Big Ben in the center of Londinium, all seemed to be adjusting their clocks.

They carried out the orders with terror, in perfect unison, unable to disobey, even though they were immortal beings like unicorns, even though Vayne's orders covered the entire Londinium, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions of people.

Two days of preparation, all for this moment of supreme imperial power.

Wayne nodded with satisfaction. Although his body, unable to withstand the mental strain, suffered a "minor injury," it unexpectedly added a chilling aura to his entrance. His appearance, as if he had truly returned from hell, holding a roster and calling out names one by one, was etched into everyone's hearts within just a few minutes.

Countless noblewomen screamed and nearly fainted, and countless noblemen trembled, almost wanting to run away, but because of Wayne's order, they all lowered their heads, adjusting their clocks and organizing their thoughts.

Five minutes, only five minutes.

Finally, the name of the first lucky person was called out. As if in response to the presumptuous declaration, as if to sound the clarion call of a triumphant return, Wayne stepped out of the coffin, holding the list, and called out the first name:

"Now, let's welcome our first lucky winner—Grand Duke Zeppelin Leumann, please."

Overwhelmed with fear and unable to control his body, the Grand Duke Zeppelin, who had just managed to maintain his composure, burst into tears as he walked onto the stage, one step, two steps, and into the coffin.

He looked at Wayne and uttered the first word, trembling: "Your Highness..."

"Killed."

Wayne uttered the sound of a loving father.

The next second, Zeppelin's body received an irresistible command from his loving father. His uncontrollable heart immediately ruptured all its blood vessels, and with a bang, a vivid blood rose burst open on Grand Duke Zeppelin's chest. His body fell backward uncontrollably. Confusion, fear, and the word "down" stuck in his throat, along with his passing, dissolved into the darkness of the coffin.

Wayne shrugged helplessly: "Everyone saw it, I didn't do anything. Just making a record of it: the suspect committed suicide out of guilt."

"Next up—Grand Duke Ankhbad."

Chapter 51 The white silk ribbon seemed like a link to heaven.

"Next, Grand Duke Ankhbad."

Wien called out coldly. He didn't know who Grand Duke Anderbach was, but that didn't stop the people in the crowd from chattering and trembling when his gaze swept over the nobles.

The attack that just killed Archduke Zeppelin remains a mystery; no one can pinpoint its origin. Despite the blood splattering as if struck by Lateran firearms, no one has heard the unmistakable sound of the gunfire. Even the Lateran representatives, Michael and Urbino themselves, are utterly baffled.

The nobles couldn't guess, Urbino couldn't guess, and even Michael and Theresa, who were both masters of mental magic, couldn't imagine how someone could use mental magic to directly make a person's body rebel and kill its master.

This is completely different from a clear command like "Go kill yourself," because to make you commit suicide, you need a tool. A person's will to live in the face of death is enough to overcome all physical constraints; that's why some mothers can hold their children up from falling buildings during natural disasters. Without a tool, even if you order someone to kill themselves, as they strangle themselves to the point of near death, their will to live will forcefully awaken their survival instincts, making them let go. Therefore, executing this command requires a weapon, such as a knife or a hammer, to force your body to officially cease resistance before the survival instinct is triggered.

But Wayne did just that. He not only made people "commit suicide out of guilt," but he even made the Grand Duke Zeppelin's own body rebel against him, forcing his blood, heart, skin, and bones to betray him, thus achieving a "sniper kill" from the inside out!

This can no longer be described as simple Originium Arts. If Kal'tsit knew the underlying principles, she would surely exclaim in astonishment: this is almost akin to the power of the Wasteland Demons, transcending the material world and distorting the rules of reality! Especially that "sniping" from the inside out, it's practically identical to an ability used by the Inner Guard in their own [Kingdom]—allowing black spikes to grow from within the enemy's body to kill them. Only, Vayne's control is more covert, leaving no trace of casting the spell.

Or perhaps—because the entire city of Londinium is currently shrouded in [Destiny → Supreme Imperial Power], the overflowing traces of magic are like water flowing into the sea, leaving no trace to be found?

Compared to Theresa, Michael was the first to react. Perhaps it was because she regarded Wayne as an being on the same level as God. When she noticed this strange state, she became the first to realize the situation and understand everything.

She wanted to tremble, but she couldn't; she wanted to call out, but she couldn't. She looked up at the man standing on the stage, as if she were gazing at the Creation painting on the dome of the Lateran Holy City Papal Palace.

Archduke Anderbach staggered onto the stage, step by step. Wayne pointed to the coffin, indicating that Archduke Anderbach should stand inside. Archduke Anderbach lowered his head, glancing at the unseeing eyes of Archduke Zeppelin in the coffin. It was as if he were seeing a non-existent mirror; his face turned deathly pale. He frantically shook his head, trying to back away step by step. Suddenly, to his astonishment, he actually managed to take a step back!

The invisible chains that had bound him seemed to have been severed the moment he stepped onto the stage, and he was free once more. The sudden joy brought color back to Grand Duke Ankhbad's pale face. He quickly stepped back, and seeing that Wayne did not stop him, he even turned around and jumped off the stage.

He took a step, then another, and his body, stiff and empty from his debauchery, stumbled and fell to the ground. But he struggled to his feet and, like a madman, smashed through the motionless crowd of onlookers, rushing towards the street where the white mourning banners fluttered slowly in the distance.

Although the onlookers were unable to move, their faces lit up with joy, as if they had found a way out, and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

Although I don't know why, this devilish prince, who seems to have returned from hell, seems to be only fit to stay on the stage.

The nobles speculated that the superstitious had begun to consider that this might be a restriction imposed by "God" on the dead who returned from hell to earth, preventing them from straying too far from their coffins, as that was their passage to hell.

Regardless of the truth, they had finally found a way out. As long as they got on the stage, they could gain their freedom and then escape quickly. As long as they could jump off the stage quickly and get away from Wayne, they would be fine!

No one noticed that Wayne, standing on the stage, calmly watched Grand Duke Ankhbad's escape. He glanced down at his silver watch, adjusted the time, then looked up at the nobles below who seemed to have found a way to survive. He chuckled, raised his hand, and pointed at someone at random:

"It seems you have a lot to say. Here, I grant you permission to speak now. The time will be counted as five minutes for you to present your statement. Please think it over carefully."

The nobleman who had been pointed at was suddenly released from his restraints, gasping for breath as he tried to slow his racing heartbeat. He raised his head, his hateful gaze fixed on the composed Wayne on the stage, and roared: