90: Chapter 90 Reactions from All Parties

"Wait—!"

"Hold on—!!!"

The Viscount and the guard captain looked at Byron, who was staring back at them, and shouted in terror, attempting to beg for mercy.

However, a strange smile appeared on Byron's face. Suddenly, a flicker of flame appeared in front of him, expanding rapidly amidst the terrified gazes of the crowd.

The next moment, before anyone could react, the fireball, resembling a great sun, streaked through the air at incredible speed.

"Boom—!"

With a dull thud.

The moment the fireball made contact with the carriage, the luxurious vehicle was instantly swallowed by flames.

In that instant, one could even see the terror and despair on the face of the obese man sitting inside the carriage through the flames.

At the same time, the moment the flames engulfed the carriage, countless tiny sparks burst outward, splashing onto the soldiers who had run over to surround Byron.

The next instant, human torches appeared one after another, wailing in agony as they sprinted down the road.

But before they could take more than a few steps, they collapsed to the ground, falling silent, leaving behind only the crackling sound of fire.

Just as that sound rang out, countless civilians within Savien, unaware of what had happened, were drawn by the commotion and turned to look outside the city.

But after seeing nothing unusual, these civilians withdrew their gazes and continued with their previously interrupted activities.

At this moment, outside the city.

In just a few short moments, the luxurious carriage and the iron-clad soldiers on the road had long since vanished, leaving behind only clumps of pitch-black charred remains that crackled under the burning flames.

As for Byron, he had vanished without a trace the very moment the fireball began to expand rapidly.

The civilians who had been kneeling on both sides of the road were now collapsed on the ground, faces full of terror, unable to recover for a long time.

As for the soldiers who had run down from the city walls attempting to rescue the Viscount, they stood blankly on the road, unaware even when the weapons in their hands dropped to the ground.

At this moment, they felt no regret for failing to save the Viscount; they felt only relief.

I do not know how much time passed, but in the Savien inner city, at the City Lord's Mansion.

A tall, middle-aged man dressed in luxurious clothing sat upon a high stone chair, looking down at the charred remains laid out below with a calm expression, revealing not a hint of emotion.

"Is this all that's left?"

Seeing that the man in tight-fitting attire standing beside the charred remains did not speak, the middle-aged man sitting on the stone chair asked.

Although the man in tight-fitting attire only gave a slight nod, his robust muscles bulged so exaggeratedly that it seemed as if they would burst through his clothing.

Yet the man in tight-fitting attire seemed not to notice, and said to himself: "Yes, my Lord Count, that is how everything unfolded."

Speaking to this point, the man in tight-fitting attire paused slightly and continued.

"My Lord Count, what should we do next? Should we…"

But before the man in tight-fitting attire could finish his sentence, Count Evan, who had been sitting calmly on the stone chair, had his expression instantly shatter. He stood up, face full of fury, and roared.

"Do what?! What else do you want to do?!"

"Do you expect me to order a manhunt for that person, or have me bring soldiers into the city for a city-wide search?!"

"Have I gone mad, or have you? Don't tell me you don't know that person's background!"

While roaring, Count Evan walked down from the high platform, stood before the charred corpse, and kicked it forcefully.

"To be able to turn a living person into this state—besides those people, who else has the ability?!"

"Now you are asking me to offend that person. Is the situation not chaotic enough, or do you want to drag me down with you?"

Count Evan walked up to the man in tight-fitting attire and stared straight at him.

Being stared at like this, the man in tight-fitting attire couldn't stop trembling, cold sweat streaming down.

In his heart, he kept cursing the companions who had goaded him before he came in.

But he also understood that now was not the time to curse them; he had to get through this immediate crisis first.

The man in tight-fitting attire did not hesitate in the slightest, immediately kneeling before Count Evan, shouting with a trembling voice.

"My Lord Count, my brain must have been kicked by a donkey for me to say such things just now. I absolutely had no intention of dragging you into this!"

Count Evan watched the man in tight-fitting attire kneeling on the ground, weeping bitterly, with a cold, icy expression.

"No matter what you do, just don't drag me into it."

"Furthermore, my order is that everyone who knows about this matter must keep it to themselves. No one is allowed to say a single word about it; treat it as if it never happened."

"As for those civilians, don't make things difficult for them either; just give them a warning and let them go."

"In any case, I have told you my explicit orders. As for whether you choose to comply outwardly but disobey inwardly, that is your own affair."

"However, you must be clear in your heart: I am a Count of the Kingdom, and you are not. Weigh that for yourself."

After saying this, Count Evan waved his hand with an expression of exhaustion, signaling that the man in tight-fitting attire could leave.

Seeing this, the man in tight-fitting attire dared not linger and immediately stood up, intending to turn and leave.

"Take this eyesore out and throw it away. What bad luck!"

The man in tight-fitting attire didn't dare say anything more, immediately bending down to scoop the charred remains into his arms and walking away quickly.

Watching the retreating figure of the man in tight-fitting attire, Count Evan curled his lip in disdain before turning and leaving towards the back of the council hall.

After leaving the council hall, the man in tight-fitting attire saw a dozen or so luxuriously dressed men suddenly appear, and his expression suddenly turned ugly.

Without the slightest hesitation, he immediately tossed the charred remains he was holding toward those people and cursed.

"A bunch of old bastards! If there's anything like this in the future, you do it yourselves; I'm not doing it!"

Seeing this, those men were not angry; they offered smiles and exchanged polite pleasantries.

When they saw that the man in tight-fitting attire had calmed down a bit, they finally began to ask about the matter.

Hearing this, the man in tight-fitting attire rolled his eyes at them in annoyance.

However, he did not hide anything, immediately recounting everything that had happened in the council hall exactly as it was, without adding any embellishments.

After finishing, the man in tight-fitting attire walked away from the crowd.

Walking as he spoke, he said, "Anyway, that's the situation. Do whatever you want, as long as you don't drag me into it."

"Hey, why are you walking so fast?"

"I'm going home to beat the living daylights out of that brat of mine, so he can't get out of bed for a while, just to keep him from causing me any trouble."

As soon as these words were spoken, the entrance to the council hall, which had been somewhat crowded, suddenly became empty.

And those men, just like the man in tight-fitting attire, rushed home with anxious expressions.

They all understood just what kind of brats they had at home.

As for our protagonist, Byron, what was he doing at this time?

He was currently strolling through the streets, carefree and leisurely.