[You have entered the Dynamic Field Dungeon <Lost City of Greed>]
—
Sylas barely had time to read this when another stream of notifications hit him in a torrent.
—
[Your <Woodland Territory> is under attack]
—
[Your <Woodland Territory> has been Corrupted]
—
[Your <Woodland Territory> has been Conquered]
—
Sylas felt something in his heart drop—not from his own emotion, but rather as though something had just been forcibly stripped from him without the chance to fight back.
—
[You have ceded Territory to the Demon Race]
[The System is displeased, System Rebel]
—
[You have suffered a Bronze Demerit]
—
[System Curse Received]
—
Sylas continued to stare at this screen calmly, his expression not changing even once. Even the drop in his heart had been wiped away, its steady, rhythmic beating returning with a firm cadence.
"… Okay."
He spoke these words lightly and then turned. In a flash, he appeared over Casstle Main, descending from the skies.
He was the picture of calm, but inwardly, something was beginning to rumble.
Arcane Madness said he was supposed to die, was it? He had no chance, was that right? He should escape, was that so?
He stepped onto Casstle Main’s walls, his gaze a picture of deathly stillness.
Soon, he reached the City Lord Mansion and took a step inside. He caught sight of his little sister and mother quite quickly, but he only gave them a perfunctory greeting before heading up the stairs.
Isolde tried to stand to ask her son what was wrong, but it was her daughter who caught her wrist with both hands.
"Why are you stopping me, Elara?"
"Sylas isn’t in the mood, Mom."
Isolde frowned at this. What mother wouldn’t? As far as she was concerned, that was all the more reason for her to go.
"It’s not something you can fix," Elara spoke again.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
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