...
...
Calming down after unleashing his fury, the Pope gave a cold glare toward his trembling subordinate.
"Send a team to the site of the Artificial Dungeon. I want confirmation—go see with your own eyes if it's really been destroyed," he ordered with a voice sharp as a blade.
The subordinate bowed deeply. "Understood."
Of course, the Pope knew that making such a move might draw the attention of the Three-Race Alliance. But at this point, he didn't care.
Their grand plan was still progressing steadily, though now the timeline had become uncertain. Originally, the next Demon Lord Selection Ceremony was supposed to take place thirty years from now. But with recent events…
"We might not have that much time," the Pope murmured to himself.
"You better bring back good news," he added in a low, threatening tone as his subordinate vanished into the shadows.
