Fang Hong picked up the scepter.
Suddenly, the scepter in his hand gradually lost its brilliance, revealing its true form—a length of eleven inches and quarter, graspable by one hand, displaying the faded emblem of the Colin Kingdom.
An echoing murmur of fragmented whispers filled the empty room.
Holding the Scepter of Authority, the voices abruptly converged from all directions around him, and became distinctly audible. It was an elderly plea,
"Mr. Manlo, don't just stand there, help me… ah, it hurts, these damned thieves. And those King's Morning Knights, utterly useless, can't even leave one person to assist me."
A sharp and thin voice responded, "Well, that's not it; I asked them to leave, respected Lord Declan."
"You? Well, capturing those anarchists works too, otherwise they would definitely cause trouble at the festival."
"Rest assured, the festival will proceed as scheduled."
