With every sentence Qin Ran spoke, the southern councilors' expressions worsened.
When they heard the three descriptions—"scheme," "conspiracy," and "destruction"—their faces became utterly grim.
As councilors of the Silent Night Secret Society, they had once remained hidden in the world and had experienced the chaos of the Black Calamity. They knew very well that each god's description was not merely decorative language, but a summary of their authority.
For example: the War God!
In direct combat, he was unmatched in valor.
For example: Calamity Lady!
When plague ran rampant, she was equally unstoppable.
Then what about this being's "scheme," "conspiracy," and "destruction"...
As one, the southern councilors shuddered.
They did not fear direct battle. Even against a god in the truest sense, with their current strength, influence, and hidden cards, they could still fight if they joined forces.
But what if this god hid in the shadows?
Blades and guns in plain sight were not frightening.
What was frightening was the dagger lurking in the dark.
Qin Ran, who had silently observed the southern councilors all along, spoke again after seeing the reaction he had expected. "Have you ever felt that there were far too many coincidences in some of the things we experienced?"
"Things that should have been impossible somehow succeeded through a string of coincidences."
"Things that should have been certain victories somehow failed because of countless accidents."
"And every time, such things happened at the most critical moment!"
Qin Ran's voice suddenly grew low.
The southern councilors, struck by the thought, looked toward the Aetandin in their minds—the heir of the Snake School—and inwardly came to an understanding.
Everything was too obvious.
Certain events within the Royal House of Aitandin.
Certain events involving the Demon Hunters.
They had all been far too coincidental.
Leaving aside everything else,