Aristotle suddenly raised his head and looked toward the door of the black Magic Carriage.
Inside the carriage, in the spacious reception room, stood a young man with a lean face.
"Andre..."
Aristotle gritted his teeth, as if golden flames had landed atop his head and were rapidly burning upward from his roots.
His originally tousled curls stood on end, drifting slowly like golden flames stirred by the Light Element.
His black eyes had turned golden.
In his hand, an ancient, dark-black iron staff gradually changed from translucent to solid. At its top, eight giant dragons faced outward, guarding the two dragons entwined together and thrusting proudly upward in the center.
At the bottom of the staff, a sharp sword pointed toward the ground, its cold light flashing.
The Ten Dragon Sword Staff.
A Lower God Artifact.
His body rose a foot into the air, hovering there as surging magic power and elements rippled around him. His white robe billowed violently.
All the magical creatures within dozens of kilometers fled in terror.
Greedy gazes watched from the shadows.
Acades stepped forward and blocked Aristotle's line of sight.
"Don't do this. This matter..."
"Please move aside." Aristotle's tone was calm and composed.
Suye spread his hands helplessly. "Esteemed Mr. Aristotle, I know all of you hate me, but this matter really has little to do with me. I'm merely a pawn of the temple. I'm neither the primary culprit nor the one who contributed the most. Besides, my entire family was wiped out by him. No matter how you look at it, I'm the one who suffered the most. Yes, I used Pallas to threaten Suye, but the problem is, how could a minor mage from a Hero Family dare threaten the Pandion Family? Yes, I harmed Julie, but the temple