The moment Nazaire uttered the last word, the whole Hall of Heroes slipped into a strange atmosphere.
The hall was quiet and deathly still, neither was there noise brought by an upsurge of group sentiments; the nobles seated on the side of the hall started to lean forward and whispering to one another in pairs or small groups.
In the middle of the indistinct buzzing noises, the nobles looked up from time to time, sneaking glances in an odd and estranged manner at the archduchess on her seat.
It was just like the gnawing and eroding sounds made by thousands upon thousands of ants that hid everywhere in the lofty and solid, wooden beams. As annoying as the sounds might be, if one broke the wood to search for the source of the annoying sounds, they would find no traces of the source.
Saroma's expression froze while she sat on the archduchess' seat.
