"Shay—" Ange called out and immediately pulled back, leaving a bewildered Alba behind.
"Ahem, greetings, Lady Alba, my Lord is aware. The rest will be handled by me, um... for your convenience, you can think of me as Pope Anxini of the Nightmare Court—here to negotiate with you. Who gets seven?" Anthony asked with a smile.
"The Pope?" Indeed, it was easy to understand. With that said, Alba knew Anthony's status, but then she immediately asked with confusion, "What seven?"
Anthony said with a smile, "A three-to-seven division, who gets seven?"
"Oh oh oh, of course we get seven, after all, all fear is already yours, and we take seventy percent of the Gods." Alba said.
"Very reasonable, but what if there are only nine Gods, how will we deal with the division if it's not an even number? Do we cut them open?" Anthony asked.
