"Nonsense, I can see that you're clearly a spy from the evil cult, trying to stop the noble sacrifice of the emissary!"
Sure enough, someone from the crowd once again shouted at the braided woman.
Then, both sides, as if by unspoken agreement, chose silence, fixing their gaze on Song Lan, waiting for him, the latecomer, to make a judgment based on the previous exchange.
"I have understood the matter."
Song Lan folded his arms across his chest, nodded, and then cleared his throat, imitating the tone of the person who had been yelling earlier, "Nonsense, I can see that you're clearly a spy from the evil cult, trying to stop the noble sacrifice of the emissary!"
This statement, like a spark, united the citizens on the square in solidarity.
But for the isolated braided woman, it was a different story.
Argh—!
Her mind went blank, now very much wanting to scream aloud.
How could there be such an infuriating person?
