Inside Byron Fortress, the atmosphere was oppressive.
Habakkuk stood in the center of the hall, his gaze sharp as blades as he swept it over every Holy Light Mage present.
A heavy air filled the room. Everyone seemed tense and did not dare meet his eyes.
Everyone knew that this commander had always been calm and rational, but today, his expression was extremely grim. Clearly, the situation was far more serious than they had imagined.
"Everyone, who exactly killed Tutadama?" Habakkuk asked in a deep voice. His voice was like a biting cold wind, striking straight at their hearts.
The Holy Light Mages exchanged puzzled looks. They had no idea why Habakkuk was so agitated.
Tutadama's death was wonderful news for humanity.
After all, Foul Spirits with demon bloodlines were extremely difficult to deal with.
At this moment, Habakkuk's questioning seemed rather baffling.
"Habakkuk, why are you looking at us like that? We don't know anything!" one of the Holy Light Mages said in confusion. "Our church didn't make a move."
The other Holy Light Mages nodded in agreement, seemingly protesting the anger of being wrongly accused.
Habakkuk's gaze was hard as iron as it swept across every mage, as though it could see through the faint traces of panic in their hearts.
Yet he did not immediately refute them. He simply stood there in silence, his expression growing darker.
You charlatans, how dare you toy with me like this? Habakkuk roared inwardly, the fury in his chest nearly erupting.
Although he had no direct evidence, Tutadama's death had clearly not been the work of ordinary people.
The only ones capable of such a thing were legendary powerhouses or Archmages.
He simply could not stand against them.
For some reason, an intense desire suddenly surged up within Habakkuk—
*I must