Escorted by a procession, the lady in white strode toward the edge of the lake.
Everyone had turned toward her when they heard her laughter and froze up right then.
"L-Lady Silverbell…"
Stanwick turned rigid when he saw her too, and he dropped on the floating platform with a thud.
He stared blankly at the lady, panic written all over his face.
"Lady Silverbell!"
Upon seeing Stanwick's dramatic reaction, the martial artists and audience members—be it from Zamri from Riverton—were all bowing their heads in salutation.
"At ease."
It was indeed Silverbell in the flesh, and the crowd's collective salutation truly enlightened Frank to the authority she commanded as the chief of the Martial Alliance.
Over a thousand people were greeting and bowing at her, a seemingly frail woman. None of them would dare question her strength or the official ties she had.
And right now, her visage was cool as she stared at Stanwick, who was on his knees, "Mr. Quaker, don't you think I have the right to investigate you?"
Even the bloodlust in her eyes was palpable.
"I, uh…"
Stanwick was left stammering for the longest time but somehow could not manage a single coherent sentence.
Soon, he was kowtowing repeatedly. "Forgive me, Lady Silverbell!"
She glanced at Heartfar, who was still lying on his side and clutching his groin, and then at Frank with a strange look.
Then, turning to Stanwick, she said, "You may speak now."
At this proximity, no one could overhear their exchange.
"Someone put me up to it, Lady Silverbell—"
"Who was it?" Silverbell pressed, narrowing her eyes.
"It's…" Stanwick paused and suddenly bellowed, "Die!"
He suddenly whipped out a short blade from his back and lurched toward Silverbell's fair neck that was inches away!
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