Fifteen days later.
Inside a certain manor by the River Thames.
Two figures left the place looking somewhat displeased.
Inside the manor's hall, Angus Feldga looked at the calm-faced Orsaga and Wanwan. After hesitating for a moment, he asked with some concern:
"My Lord, do we really not need any allies?"
Those two figures just now were none other than two Blue Star transmigrators. They had come here intending to form a clique and recruit Orsaga and Wanwan.
The result was plain to see.
They had come in high spirits and left disappointed.
And over these past days, such scenes had long since ceased to be uncommon.
Ever since the last batch of subordinates sent by the Lord of the Outland had been dealt with fifteen days ago, the other side had made no further moves. Most Blue Star transmigrators were deeply worried by this, believing that he might be brewing a major offensive—or even an all-out attack!
That was undoubtedly bad news!
Thus, feeling insecure, despite having the Court of Transmigrators as an organization, they had instinctively begun seeking closer cooperation with others.
They began privately selecting transmigrators who seemed worthwhile, forming tighter alliances and factions.
Even Orsaga and Wanwan, the two who had never displayed any power from beginning to end, had received quite a few invitations to cooperate recently.
Yet without exception, they had all been rejected.
After all, such things meant nothing to them.
Seeing this, as Orsaga's fiercely loyal lackey, Angus Feldga naturally felt a little worried, caught in the predicament of a eunuch fretting while the emperor remained unhurried.
He did not want his boss to capsize because of carelessness.
But in response to his concern, Orsaga merely waved a hand dismissively.
"There is no need to care."
He had no intention of saying