https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-351-Principal-Lan-the-Master-Micro-Controller/12584511/
https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-353-How-Could-Lanchi-Be-a-Living-Yama-/12584518/
Chapter 352: Lanchi's Heart-Piercing Strike
Chapter 352: Lanchi's Heart-Piercing Strike
The doors to the governor's office extended outwards, crafted from ancient maple wood felled three centuries ago, with intricate silver engravings adorning the frames, exuding an air of nobility and historical grandeur.
An unusual silence permeated the office, even Anneluo's previous desperate screams had ceased to echo through the spacious third floor of the governor's mansion.
"Loren...!!!"
Anneluo, bound by the restrictive ice spikes of the Demon Binding technique, now experienced stinging pain as his body was moved, though this physical torment was insignificant compared to the terror in his heart.
Seeing Loren once again, Anneluo's breathing became rapid, and each inhalation was accompanied by a slight choking sound, as if the air had solidified in his throat.
The surrounding noises faded into a blur, and Anneluo's eardrums were enveloped in a silent void, resonating only with the sound of his own frantic heartbeat. His hands and feet were already immobile, and the distance between himself and Loren seemed like an insurmountable abyss.
The sheer terror in his eyes, a bone-chilling fear, bound him as tightly as invisible chains.
On the sofa, two figures, Lanchi and Sigrid, sat with an air of calm and composure.
Lanchi sat on the left side of the sofa, poised like a chess piece, gently stroking the pitch-black kitten in his arms.
Sigrid, on the other hand, leaned back in her seat, her hand supporting her chin as she rested her arm on the armrest. Each finger exuded power, and it seemed that with just a slight gesture from her, the entire empire would tremble. She glanced at Anneluo, who was sprawled on the floor, her gaze conveying a sense of lofty superiority.
The two presented starkly different auras and postures—one exuded the elegance of a poet, while the other emanated the domineering aura of an empress—yet, surprisingly, they seemed to get along exceptionally well.
Anneluo's eyes reflected rage, despair, and disbelief at the atmosphere between them.
He had assumed that after his departure, the Grand Cardinal Loren would have first taken control of the weakened Tyrant Sect.
Never did he imagine that this woman would have such a trusting relationship with the Grand Cardinal.
Could it be that the Tyrant Sect had already betrayed the Protoss Empire long ago and formed an unspoken alliance with Grand Cardinal Loren...? Anneluo struggled to comprehend the scene before him, his emotions surging like tumultuous waves.
The feeling of losing everything and plummeting into an abyss was unbearable.
Anneluo's breathing quickened, his gaze askew, as he desperately sought an escape. Yet, every shred of remaining rationality told him that there was no way out.
He suddenly shouted, his voice as piercing as a scops owl, laden with resentment and unwillingness, "Loren!!! You hypocrite! You despicable hypocrite! Didn't you promise to spare me?!""
"... "
Lanchi maintained his slightly upturned lips, his smile all the more chilling in this context.
"I indeed didn't kill you. Aren't you living quite well right now?"
His response, tinged with nonchalance, seemed to suggest that this outcome was only natural.
The brief reply stabbed deeper into Anneluo's heart, causing his body to tremble violently once more.
He couldn't comprehend how the Grand Cardinal Loren, known for his upright character, could be so cold, deceitful, and manipulative, surpassing even the more sinister cardinals of the Church of Rebirth in his twisted interests.
Anneluo took a deep breath, mustering his last ounce of strength.
He turned to Viscount Qinston, his voice laced with bitterness and struggle, "You've all been deceived by him!!! He's Loren, the Grand Cardinal of the Church of the Goddess of Fate on the Southern Continent. He's the empire's arch-nemesis! By aiding him, you're committing a grave sin against the empire!!! You... You have no idea what calamity you've brought upon yourselves!!!!"
But.
Neither Viscount Qinston nor any of the Imperial Guards present took a step forward in agreement with Anneluo's words. Their indifference was chilling, as if they didn't care about his accusations or were simply oblivious to the implications.
In fact, they may have become even more convinced of something.
Their gazes seemed to be observing a raving madman who had lost all sense of reason.
Viscount Qinston shook his head lightly and chuckled as he walked gently to Lanchi's sofa, bowing respectfully, "Your Excellency Governor, your predictions are indeed uncanny, and every one of them has come true."
At that moment, Anneluo completely fell apart.
The despair enveloped him like icy tendrils, chilling him more than the frozen state of his body.
As the last shreds of hope in his eyes shattered, he felt he was losing everything.
"He's a liar! You've all been deceived by this fraud!!!!!"
Anneluo howled, a mix of laughter and tears, as if the absurdity of the situation had finally driven him insane.
His cries of bitter resentment echoed like his final desperate pleas.
Yet, everyone in the room turned a blind eye and a deaf ear, showing not an ounce of sympathy or understanding. No one stepped forward to defend him.
They merely watched Anneluo, his madness and delusions laid bare before them, as if observing a distant desert landscape—remote and indifferent.
Finally, Lanchi sighed.
Looking down at Anneluo, his compassionate eyes seemed to see right through him, laying bare his soul.
And yet, unlike the lofty demeanor he had displayed earlier when Anello had seen him on the snowfield, there was no hint of a cat-and-mouse game now.
There was only pity and regret, as if a kind, elderly headmaster were looking at a student about to be expelled.
Anello's trembling hands braced against the floor, trying to steady his body and emotions.
His eyes, filled with extreme confusion and terror, were fixed on Lanchi, searching for a glimmer of truth in those unfathomable eyes or a glimmer of possible hope.
No matter what, the one who had captured him was the High Priest Loren, a follower of the Goddess of Fate, who should be a merciful person, right?
He had talked about using love to change him and promised not to kill him!
"Loren, let me go. Someone of your status shouldn't lay a hand on me."
Anello's voice gradually rose, and the tears in his eyes fell, rolling down his pale and determined face. He looked resigned to death, yet he was also pleading for Loren's compassion.
At this moment, he was like a misunderstood child, unable to comprehend why everything around him had become so alien and indifferent.
"Holy Son, don't believe him..."
Sigrid seemed about to say something angrily, but Lanchi raised his hand to stop her, asking her to trust him and leave this to him.
Lanchi continued to gaze at the Holy Son of Extinction, his expression still filled with maternal forgiveness.
"What do you think is the more important purpose of rules and laws: prevention or retribution?"
He asked.
"Prevention! It's prevention! I promise I will never go against the Church of the Goddess of Fate again! I swear to the Goddess of Fate!"
Anello answered Lanchi as if he had grasped a lifeline.
However, Lanchi merely smiled, his smile tinged with regret and sorrow, and shook his head.
"It's retribution. Deterring and reforming criminals are secondary. But the primary purpose is that those who do wrong should face retribution, and those who do no wrong should not. This is the foundation of punishment and justice, and retribution is its most important function."
For once, Lanchi's expression turned solemn as he imparted this truth to Anello.
Hearing Lanchi's words and seeing his attitude, Anello's half-open lips trembled, and his hollow gaze seemed to foresee his future.
His body felt even colder, and everything around him became blurred and indistinct, as if his very existence had become insubstantial.
"Let me go, or Archbishop Askeshan will not let those innocent priests of the Church of the Goddess of Fate off the hook..."
Over and over, Anello repeated these words, his sobs his only anchor. But each time, his voice grew weaker and more powerless.
"Why? I'm not a member of the Church of the Goddess of Fate."
Lanchi paused, a hint of confusion in his voice.
"......?"
Suddenly, Anello froze as well.
He didn't understand what Loren meant.
Was Loren still going to feign ignorance and play the fool?
"I am Loki Maccassi," Lanchi said, raising his hand slightly and stating very clearly.
"No!!! You're Loren! If you kill me, Askeshan will find out it was you sooner or later!"
Anello screamed in fear, no longer able to distinguish between truth and deception in this city. Ever since he had stepped into this office, the world had become a living nightmare.
But the one thing he had to be sure of, his only remaining hope, was that the person before him was indeed High Priest Loren!
"Ah..."
Lanchi sighed in exasperation.
"Why won't you believe me? Every word I've said to you is true."
Lanchi took out the [Fake Stone Tablet - Wind] and also showed his Imperial ID to Anello.
The ID clearly stated - Loki Maccassi.
"Look, I was just joking with you on the snowfield."
Lanchi smiled sheepishly, and no one could tell if he truly felt a bit guilty or if he was just unable to contain his smile any longer.
Sigrid finally leaned back on the sofa, holding her stomach as she burst into laughter. Seeing Anello's foolishness, she couldn't stop laughing, and she kept nudging Lanchi beside her.
At that moment, Anello's eyes widened as all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place in his mind.
"Ah... Ah..."
Only after he had completely fallen into captivity did he realize that he could have killed the Pope of the Dominating Religion and the Holy Son of Domination back then.
Yet, he had been deceived by his own fear and led around by the nose.
Step by step, he had been tricked from the gates of heaven to this inescapable abyss.
His eyes slowly turned bloodshot, like two pearls soaking in blood, on the verge of shattering. It was as if a flame of rage that had already gone out was boiling within them, about to leap out of his eye sockets and destroy everything.
Every cell, every inch of his skin, was trembling. Anello's mouth twitched, his teeth grinding, and drop by drop, a deep red liquid fell from the corners of his eyes. It wasn't tears, but blood - proof that he was so filled with rage that he was on the verge of tearing himself apart.
"Lo... ki...!!!"
The Holy Son of Extinction's piercing scream signaled his complete mental breakdown.
(End of Chapter)
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