Heroic Spirit Palace.
In the Hall of Heroes, the four archdukes stared at each other.
"He's in trouble. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been in such a hurry." Staring at Chapman Lampard, who was walking out of the hall by himself, Archduke Roknee furrowed his brows. "It's probably Prime Minister Lisban."
Archduke Trentida snorted softly.
His emotions were betrayed by his hands, which were rapidly rubbing against each other. He exhaled loudly.
"That isn't the problem now," the Archduke of Reformation Tower's voice was sharp and strange as usual. He pouted at Lampard's retreating figure. "You know what we need to do now… What do we choose?"
He stared at the other archdukes with a solemn expression.
Roknee sighed. He seemed extremely doubtful. "Do all of you believe in what he's said?
"That the Constellatiates are now… different?"
Roknee subconsciously clenched his fists.
The archdukes said nothing.
