The envoy crossed the threshold of the crumbling city gates. With a first step, he was already before the church. With a second step, he was already within its halls. With a third, he stood in front of Edmun, and before the latter could react, a hand had grasped his throat, lifting him up from the ground.
All the air in the surroundings seemed lost to Sir Trolley, his body hardly having even the intent to fight back.
Edmun could vaguely feel that this man was in the Vanguard Class just like he was, and yet the difference might as well have been night and day.
Edmun grabbed the man’s wrist, fighting to breathe, but it was like all the oxygen in his body was being leeched away, ripped clean from his body and pulled into the arm that was pinching his throat down.
The envoy didn’t act one bit the old man he looked. His hair was a vibrant gold that looked almost plated in polished metal, one half of his skull quite literally being clad in this very ore. The gold formed three layered shingles on his head that reflected a brightness that was almost too hard to look right at.
The man’s eyes didn’t feel real. Edmun was half convinced that if he poked at them, they wouldn’t give way like flesh or reflect the slightest bit of moisture. Instead, they would clang like orbs of brass.
Neither left any sort of separation between white and iris, their entire bodies being painted in the very same gold that adorned the man’s head and his robes.
He felt like the embodiment of a blazing sun, and he somehow stood just as tall, existing as an entity beyond reach, beyond what his mere Class level alone could decide about his strength.
This man was no normal Vanguard, his Resonant Frame wasn’t any normal Neural Frame either, and if he had the Holy Knight Class, it wasn’t just of the Low Tier without a doubt.
"Terran, fallen bastard, formerly of the Valdi Dukedom. What has happened to him?" The envoy asked coldly.
Edmun tried to speak, but his voice made little more than squeaks, he wasn’t even able to form the slightest grunt. Even those were pinched together and pitched up as though with no other purpose than to emasculate him.
The squires that remained behind due to Grey’s words had paled considerably, several of them having fainted beneath the pressure alone, and one of them...
Sir Ovaal’s eyes bulged out of their sockets, his body feeling every urge to run over to them. Under this sort of pressure, if the envoy refused to hold back, let alone fainting, the boys would die.
The power of a Resonant Frame extended too far beyond the presence of its user. At a level like the envoy’s, interrupting the function of a weaker existence’s Neural Frame was very possible.
If the envoy was actively trying to do this, then the only possibility left would be death. But even working passively like this, if it went on for too long, that was exactly what would happen, and there wouldn’t be anything they could do about it.
Sir Ovaal could only say the first thing that came to his mind.
"He was killed by someone chosen by the Paladin Frame!"
The words tumbled out of his mouth, and maybe if the envoy had had his hand on his throat, Sir Ovaal would have died before he even managed to get the second half of his words out. Even with the small distance between them, it had felt like a knife had suddenly appeared at his throat just then.
But Sir Ovaal pushed through, squeezing the last of the words out.
The envoy frowned, part of his aura wavering. "What did you say?"
"Paladin Frame. A Paladin Frame has awakened. Sir Terran tried to kill him and the boy lashed out, counter-killing him in return. He is now within the gate. If sir envoy would like to question the boy, it is only a matter of waiting until the end."
Sir Ovaal was so nervous he didn’t know what to do with his hands. He was someone so very used to sitting atop the hierarchy, but right now he might as well have been a child waiting for punishment.
When Sir Ovaal heard from Edmun that Grey had a Paladin Frame, he had been over the moon. Edmun hadn’t said anything about the Mark of the Buddha because he already felt like his disciple had shown enough. But right about now, Edmun was actually very thankful that he hadn’t.
Grey had suddenly shown up with all the fat he had had before gone. He disappeared before Edmun could even question him about it, but honestly, right about now, Edmun was wondering if he had ever known the truth in the first place.
Did Grey really have the Mark of the Buddha Frame? Did he really have the Paladin Frame? If he did, how could he have possibly gotten rid of the fat so easily?
Something was wrong, and Edmun was busy inwardly spiralling about it all while everyone was hoping that Grey would be their savior.
Now, it was too late to take anything back. But at this point, who cared?
"This is his master!" Sir Ovaal quickly added after he managed to get some words out.
The envoy released Edmun like he was a plague. Then, seemingly realizing that maybe the act was too cowardly, he smoothed out his robes as though that had been his original intention all the while.
Regaining his composure, he sneered.
"Paladin Frame, you say. In this small backwater city? I’ll need to see this for myself." he said coldly.
"Y-yes, of course." Sir Ovaal said with a lowered head as Edmun coughed, gasping for air.
"You understand what it will mean if you’ve lied to me, correct? I will make your life worse than a living hell."
The cold blade in the envoy’s words cut against their throats.
"Now. Where is your Bishop?"