All three assassins had failed. One had been reduced to residue, one remained on his knees, and one sat slumped on the steps.
The grand hall erupted into chaos. Delegations from every nation sprang to their feet, shoving chairs aside and scattering tableware across the floor.
The warriors of the Northern Plains raised their battle-axes, pointing the blades at Layton and Di Tian as they formed a battle line in the candlelight.
The golden orb in Angelina's hand shot out in full, transforming into an enormous shield of light before the Human Emperor and enclosing them both.
Svarog shouldered the Great Axe and strode to Qi Wu's side, his gray-blue eyes sweeping every corner of the hall.
Pope Pius I rose to his feet. His purple robes snapped in the surge of spiritual power, and the light gemstone atop his staff began to shine.
Europa's accompanying knights drew their longswords and formed a circular defensive line around the hall's perimeter.
Qi Wu stood where he was, his hands hanging at his sides, his white hair stirring gently in the lingering waves of spiritual power.
He glanced at the evaporating pool of black mist residue on the floor, at Layton kneeling with smoke rising from his chest, and at Di Tian slumped on the steps with his right arm frozen blue and purple.
The corners of his mouth lifted slightly as he quietly regarded the three failures.
"That's it? I thought I'd get a little entertainment tonight."
Di Tian raised his head, his pale face filled with horror.
He looked at Qi Wu and suddenly understood something.
His voice was hoarse and trembling:
"You... knew all along?"
Layton knelt on the floor, fragments of his mechanical heart falling from his chest. Gritting his teeth, he forced out each word:
"Our operation...