Sunlight could not reach the Room of Authority in the deepest part of Pangaea Castle.
Heavy curtains shut out everything outside. Saint Nusjuro leaned against his chair, his eyes closed and his brow furrowed.
First Generation Kitetsu lay quietly in his arms. His fingers unconsciously stroked its sheath, a light motion that nonetheless betrayed his unease.
No one had ever weighed so heavily on the minds of the five men at the pinnacle of power in the world.
Except that man.
Saint Mars raised a hand and unconsciously touched his cheek.
Where his fingertips touched, he could still faintly feel phantom pain. Though the wound had long since healed, that pain had been etched into his bones.
Saint Warcury's gaze swept over the expressionless Saint Shepherd Ju Peter, then turned to Saint Garling, who sat at the head of the table and had just called this meeting.
He took a deep breath and broke the silence:
"Let's begin the meeting."
His voice carried a trace of anticipation that even he could not explain:
"Hopefully, it's good news..."
Saint Garling raised his head.
His expression was indescribably complicated: grave, puzzled, deeply wary, and even touched with something he himself refused to admit... admiration.
As the former leader of the Holy Knights, he had seen countless powerful fighters and handled countless difficult incidents. But that Silver-Haired Man was the only person who had ever made him feel that he was "beyond control."
"Colleagues."
He sounded as though he were weighing every word:
"This 'World Hero' has now presented us with a dilemma."
"A classified message from the navy's Garp the Hero-Aaron Ball, having nothing to do, intends to use his ability for land reclamation. And he has rather generously offered to let us choose the construction site."
Bang!
Saint Shepherd Ju Peter