So? Did Someone Force You to Become the Heavenly Demon?

Chapter 510 ·A Fisherman's Windfall (3)

  • Next Chapter

Amir ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄂Sheikh broke the heavy silence. "A decree from the Sultan? What in the world is that about?"

In ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂response, the officer hurriedly pulled out a letter and offered it forward. "The enemy envoy handed this over, O Amir. According to him, they intercepted a messenger coming from the homeland." 

"O ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂Allah."

Sheikh ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂drew a sharp breath and moved to examine the letter, but the Great General's adjutant stepped forward first.

Taking ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂the letter in hand, the adjutant turned to Sheikh. "Let us read it together."

Sheikh ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂moved closer, and the adjutant unfurled the decree. Both men's faces crumpled of their own accord when they read what was inside.

The Jesus-worshipping people of Europe had raised a Crusade. Amir Barhim was struggling on alone in the West, but he could not hold out for long. And so the decree commanded them to cede Bukhara and Merv to the coalition and conclude the truce as fast as possible before leading the army back west.

After absorbing the contents of the letter, Sheikh was the first to speak. "Just a few weeks ago, the Sultan ordered us to crush the eastern front quickly because the Crusaders were mobilizing. For the orders to suddenly flip to a ceasefire almost overnight is completely absurd." 

"Look at the royal seal stamped on the decree. They can hardly have stolen the Sultan's own seal in that span of time, can they?"

After offering that reasoning to Sheikh, the adjutant paused as a new thought struck him. "Perhaps the Sultan has already received word of the Great General's death."

"Use your head. Do you know how many days it takes to travel between here and Baghdad where the imperial palace stands?"

The distance between here and the imperial palace.

And the suddenly reversed orders.

With his mind still lingering on the casualties they had suffered, the adjutant suddenly connected the dots.

"In all likelihood, this is a letter the Sultan dispatched in haste after receiving word that the Old Man of the Mountain had fallen."

"Ah..."

Only then could Sheikh understand why the Sultan had so abruptly reversed his command. When he factored in the travel time to the capital, the timeline matched up flawlessly.

"Of all things that could fall into their hands, it has to be this decree...”

It meant the enemy had already caught on that they were suffering an invasion by the Jesus-worshippers.

As Sheikh wallowed in despair, the adjutant tilted his head. "Isn't it weird, though? They know our homeland is in a dire situation, so why would they suddenly request a truce in accordance with the Sultan's will?"

A suffocating silence choked the command tent.

Why would they request a truce while the advantage was theirs?

They racked their brains as hard as they could, yet no answer came to them.

"Well, we have to meet them at the table and find out."

A dark shadow lay over the face of the adjutant who said it.

They were going to sit across from the men who had shredded the Sultan's grand ambitions to pieces, the very same bastards who had murdered their Great General.

It was a very bitter pill to swallow.

***

The adjutant and Sheikh summoned the Hong Dynasty's envoy to the command tent, but the truce talks did not begin at once.

"The Grand Preceptor awaits you for the negotiations."

The envoy had come merely to deliver the news.

Hearing that the so-called Avatar of the Evil God was personally taking the stage left everyone in the tent with complicated expressions.

"This has to be a trap."

"I knew it. There was no reason for them to propose a truce under these circumstances."

As panic began to bubble over among the generals, the Great General's adjutant spoke. "I'll go by myself. Trap or not, we need this truce to survive. And if it really is a trap, it's better that only one of us dies, right?"

He had done nothing but watch as the supreme commander he served met his death. Dragged down by that debt of guilt, the adjutant was more than willing to gamble his life on this desperate play.

A short while later, the adjutant left the imperial camp with only a minimal escort. In the distance, he spotted a small detachment lingering around a hastily pitched tent. He was then guided by the Hong envoy to the rendezvous point where Il-mok was waiting. 

"Welcome. I am Il-mok, Grand Preceptor of the Hong Dynasty."

The adjutant's expression grew complicated at this polite reception.

To think that the monster who had single-handedly slain the Great General was this young...

It was hard for him to reconcile that fact with the visage of the young man before him.

He had glimpsed that face once from afar, but up close it was harder still to believe.

He stayed silent for a moment to gather himself before offering a brief salute.

"I am Aziz, who served as the Great General's adjutant."

"Please, sit for now." Il-mok gestured at the temporary table and chairs he had prepared.

For some reason, an enormous sheet of parchment lay spread across the table. Drawn upon that parchment was something familiar to the adjutant. It was a rough map of Islam's territory.

Just looking at that map gave Aziz a strong premonition of how this conversation was going to unfold. It also clarified exactly why these people had gone out of their way to propose a truce first. 

Seeing the adjutant staring intently at the parchment, Il-mok let out a faint chuckle and spoke. "Why don't you take a seat first?" 

As Jong-ri Chu once again translated Il-mok's words, Aziz sat with a heavy face.

"Well, there is hardly a need for a lengthy preamble. You need this truce every bit as much as we do, after all. We too are willing to withdraw graciously, provided you pay ample reparations for starting this war."

"...And if we had no intention of signing a truce?"

Upon hearing Jong-ri Chu's translation, Il-mok merely scoffed in amusement. "You and I both clearly saw the decree sent by your Sultan; why bother being so stubborn?”

"The Sultan may have spoken of a truce, but I doubt he meant for us to sign one while carving up the Empire's land and handing it all to you. Besides, was it not you who raised the truce first since the war weighs on you?" Aziz spoke as if probing for a reaction.

Since the enemy had requested the truce first, he judged that his side still held a card or two in reserve.

Naturally, Il-mok snorted.

"Then you are welcome to leave. Well, if your side desires war, there is nothing stopping us either."

Without a moment of hesitation, Il-mok rose from the table. 

He did want the truce. He had no wish to spill more of his soldiers' blood for no gain. But he knew full well that showing weakness in a negotiation meant being dragged around by the nose. And being dragged around in a negotiation where he held the initiative was an indignity that could harm his nation’s prestige.

Just as Il-mok turned to leave the makeshift tent, Aziz frantically shouted.

"Wait!!"

"We will at least hear what you have to say."

He spoke with as much dignity as he could. "Out of respect for the Sultan's wishes, we will listen to the extent of your demands and then make our decision." 

Il-mok openly scoffed at the bluff. Only then did he turn back around and casually return to his seat.

Rather than arguing this and that, Il-mok just held his hand out toward Jin Hayeon. 

Without a word, she dipped a brush in the ink she had already ground and passed it to him. Il-mok took that brush and drew a line across the map on the parchment.

A rather massive line that bisected the vast territory of Islam.

The adjutant's face stiffened once more. The new border placed Rayy, the Empire's greatest central metropolis and modern-day Tehran, entirely on the enemy's side. 

"Even for a truce, is this not going too far? Rayy was our Empire's territory from the start!"

Ceding other regions was problematic enough, but ceding the greatest city of the central lands was simply unthinkable.

In response to Aziz's outrage, Il-mok let out a quiet sigh.

It was not a sigh of regret or hesitation. Rather, it was dripping with contempt and disappointment at the man’s foolishness.

"Going too far? You seem to have been living under a delusion since you arrived. This is the greatest concession we are capable of offering."

Just as Aziz's face twisted and he opened his mouth to retort at Jong-ri Chu's translation, Il-mok cut him off. "You can either walk away with half your Empire intact, or you can watch the whole thing burn to the ground. Now, choose.”

It was a blatant threat that they would annihilate the Empire if they refused this offer.

On any normal day, Aziz would have laughed in his face. But today was not a normal day. Fighting only the Hong Dynasty might have been manageable, but with the Crusaders invading from the West, continuing this war would only cause the Empire to collapse from being stretched too thin.

He had known it in his head, but he stubbornly refused it with all his might.

Only now did Aziz come face to face with that reality.

While Aziz stared blankly at the map that stripped away the Empire's original territories, Il-mok flashed a friendly smile at him. "Now then, I believe that settles the matter of territory. Let us move on to other business."

With that, he pivoted the conversation to the issue of war reparations.

Listening in silence with a half-absent face, Aziz belatedly came back to himself and asked, "Victory in the last battle notwithstanding, are you not demanding rather too much?"

As Aziz tried to push back and fulfill his duties as an envoy, Il-mok furrowed his brow in irritation. "I don't know why you keep whining. You people started this mess. You launched an invasion and butchered innocent civilians by the thousands, so you have absolutely no right to play the victim card now."

"...The place we invaded was not your land," Aziz weakly muttered in response.

"You attacked our allies, so coming to their defense is basic decency, isn't it? Besides, our Hong Dynasty is deeply committed to world peace. Doesn't our willingness to initiate today's truce prove just how deeply we value harmony?"

Aziz felt a hollow chuckle on the verge of bursting out of him.

They love peace?

These mad heathens who follow the Evil God?

"For people who claim to love peace, you are remarkably warlike."

At Aziz's pointed remark, Il-mok smiled brightly. "Why ask what you already know full well? Peace is a thing that can only be won through force."

"..."

Seeing Aziz at a loss for words, Il-mok added one final item. "Oh, one last thing. Hand over the traitors. You have the Lord of Herat and his little band of defectors, right?"

In truth, Il-mok only found out about this from the Muslim soldiers who had come over to the Hong Dynasty. The catalyst was one of them recognizing the face of the warrior who had fought Jin Hayeon.

Why would Gulat, a man heralded as the greatest warrior of Herat, be among the soldiers of the Khalas Empire?

The question resolved itself without difficulty. Testimony kept emerging of other famous generals who had supposedly been loyal to the coalition appearing among the ranks of the Empire’s army. It also explained why Bukhara had fallen so quickly.

If this were still a live warzone, Il-mok would have been out for blood over every soldier he lost to their treachery. 

But thanks to their betrayal, the work ahead had become a great deal easier.

"I cannot decide all of this on my own authority. I will return to discuss the terms and bring back a formal answer."

With those words, Aziz returned to the imperial camp and dropped the Hong Dynasty's extortionate demands into the laps of the high commanders.

Naturally, all hell broke loose.

"These madmen dare to covet the Empire's land!"

"We absolutely cannot yield! We must stand and fight!!"

Amir Sheikh's reaction was much the same as the other generals'.

"How could you sit there and simply listen to that!"

Facing Sheikh, whose face was so red it looked ready to burst, Aziz replied with a resigned expression. "And what would you have me do? If we refuse the truce, the Empire falls."

A freezing silence instantly descended upon the command tent. The other commanders finally began to look past their pride and acknowledge the grim reality of their situation.

Rejecting the truce now would be nothing more than a foolish act of protecting their egos.

Unfortunately for them, giving in to every single one of the enemy's outrageous demands was the only practical way forward. It had fundamentally become a question of whether to lose half their Empire or lose everything entirely. 

At that heavy moment, one of the generals nervously muttered to himself. "I do not know if the Sultan will ever accept these terms.”

The one who answered that murmur was Aziz. "Worry not. I will step forward as the one responsible."

He was still shouldering the debt of guilt from standing by while his commander died.

If someone had to incur the Sultan's wrath regardless, then Aziz was more than ready to walk into the execution ground.

***

The very next day, Aziz arrived in Merv accompanied by roughly a thousand soldiers. He declared that he would accept every one of the conditions Il-mok had laid down and signed the agreement with his own hand as the Great General's proxy before departing immediately.

Looking down from the towering battlements, Il-mok watched the dejected procession leave before pivoting his gaze toward the east. "The negotiations with the Empire are finished. Time to deal with the allied forces."

With the warmongers thoroughly squeezed dry, he cheerfully decided it was time to collect an invoice from the people he had saved.

As he plotted his next shakedown, Il-mok glanced down into the fortress.

There, bound tightly in rope, stood a group of men.

They were the traitors.

A wicked grin spread across his face.

They would prove exceedingly useful in the upcoming negotiations indeed.

RelatedRelatedRelated

If you find any errors (non-standard content, ads redirect, broken links, etc..), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible.

Report

Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter