Outside an extravagantly luxurious palace.
As a "human carriage" arrived, the crowd that had long been waiting at the entrance hurried forward.
"Honored Saint Irsys, the other lords are already waiting for your arrival in the inner hall," said the CP0 agent in a white robe and mask with utmost respect.
Saint Irsys, fat-faced and narrow-eyed, nodded "reservedly" and walked into the palace over a carpet of slaves' bodies.
"Damn it, that bastard!"
"Shut up! Are you trying to get us killed?"
Suppressed sobbing came from within the human carpet.
Yet the person standing on them noticed the disturbance.
"Bastard! How dare a lowly commoner like you have the courage to look directly at a god!" Noticing the hatred in the man beneath his feet, Irsys furiously swung the tip of his shoe toward the "commoner's" eye.
"Ah!"
The "commoner" whose eye had been kicked out was quickly dragged away. The entire process barely stirred a ripple in the hearts of the other slaves.
They had long since grown used to it.
"Lord Saint Irsys, please forgive us for allowing that commoner's blood to sully your shoe." A guard soon crawled to his feet and wiped the blood from the toe of his shoe in the most humble posture.
"For Rosward's sake, I'll forgive your negligence this time!"
He entered the palace.
Guards stood watch everywhere, while powerful masked figures lurked in the corners.
Eight people were already standing in the middle of the banquet hall—five men and three women. Their shared feature was the bubble helmets on their heads.
"My friend, Irsys, you're finally here!" Rosward, who barely possessed a trace of aristocratic bearing and held a cane in his hand, spread his arms with a smile.
"Latecomers must accept punishment, sweetie!" laughed the fat woman clutching food, her