This was perhaps the last respectable place left in the hive city. At least here, you could still see an intact table and wooden stools that had not been burned for firewood.
A group of people sat around the simple table. Their armor and clothing looked as though they had not been changed in a long time, only given a cursory wipe.
The people in this room outranked one another, and few ever got to see so many important figures gathered together in silent contemplation.
A group of women stood there, muscular and well-proportioned, their bodies healthy and strong. Yet they wore neither clothing nor armor, using only scraps of cloth to cover their graceful figures.
The woman kneeling at the front pressed her head to the floor. Before her lay only an iron whip studded with thorns.
"Please punish us!"
The woman's voice trembled with regret, lacking the strength one might have expected.
Before her stood a young man in an ordinary Krieg uniform. Yet rather than taking pleasure in the scene, he looked angry and bewildered.
"Tell me... whose idea was this?"
Lin Fan swept his gaze around the room, eyeing everyone who had come to the meeting suspiciously.
Bishop Marian slid to his knees and glided right up to Lin Fan's feet, startling him badly.
This guy definitely rehearsed that beforehand.
Bishop Marian spoke in an aged, weighty voice. "Saint!"
"Don't call me Saint. Call me that again, and I'll make sure you never see the Golden Throne for the rest of your life."
"Uh..." Lin Fan's threat was clearly effective. Bishop Marian's normally unshakable expression crumbled.
"Saint... Lord Soap..."
"Hm?"
"Ahem. Mr. Soap."
Only after seeing that Lin Fan did not object to the title did Bishop Marian continue explaining the sisters' actions.
"They believe their