Chapter 327 Not Hiding Affection for James
Under Mia's guidance, James crossed five yards and arrived at the Storm Pavilion on the back hill.
The pavilion was built on the edge of a cliff, almost hanging in mid-air, with the roaring river below. The wind was strong, and the water was rapid, giving a sense of vastness and openness.
At this moment, in the pavilion of over a hundred square feet, sat a fair-skinned middle-aged man, dressed as always in white clothes and a black hat, giving off an aura of effeminacy.
He sat on a stone with a mandolin placed in front of him.
On both sides of the pavilion stood several men and women in elegant clothes, all respectful, either guards or trusted aides.
Meanwhile, James picked up on the vibe of some heavy hitters lurking in the shadows of the back garden, a clear sign there were plenty of hidden guards around.
Seeing the fair-skinned man, Mia stepped forward. " President Lancelot."
She tried to keep her tone calm, but her voice still trembled uncontrollably, not only because she was holding a chopped head but also due to Lancelot's oppressive presence.
Lancelot did not speak, merely extending his fair fingers to gently stroke the mandolin in front of him.
A sharp string sound pierced James's ears, and Lancelot's entire demeanor instantly became fierce.
The entire Storm Pavilion seemed to be filled with a chilling murderous intent due to the sound of the mandolin, causing Mia and the trusted aides to shudder violently.
As the intense, mournful tune kept going, the air itself seemed to rush into the pavilion, turning the atmosphere bone-chilling.
Lancelot's white robes billowed, his long hair loose and wild in the wind, his pale face flickering in and out of view through the strands.
But his eyes were like cold stars, brimming with endless menace.
His fingers moved faster, each stroke cutting deeper, like he was playing the very heartbeat of the world.
Mia and the others grew paler, sweat pouring from their foreheads, and eventually, they couldn't help but close their eyes.
James seemed to be on a bloody battlefield, with all his comrades and loved ones dead, and himself at the end of his rope.
Living in such a state was worse than ending his life with a blade.
Thoughts kept rising in James's mind, his emotions continuously influenced by the mandolin, an indescribable sorrow spreading in his heart.
Kill yourself, kill yourself, a voice in his heart kept echoing around.
James uncontrollably drew out Aether, whose sharpness made his heart burn even more.
But the coldness of the Aether also jolted James's mind, gradually awakening him from his trance.
He suddenly realized that he had unknowingly fallen into an extremely dangerous situation.
Right then, Lancelot's fingers shifted, flying across the strings even quicker.
With one final, sharp pluck, he sent a note slicing through the air.
A leaf instantly shattered, then wrapped in airflow and shot towards James.
Mia and the others felt a suffocating despair, their hearts filled with terror.
James, now clear-headed, saw this and let out a fierce roar, stepping forward and slashing Aether fiercely.
The clash of his blade against the shattered leaf sent a sharp crack echoing through the pavilion.
With a dull thud, most of the leaf fragments scattered into the air.
But the force of it sent James stumbling back a few steps, his clothes billowing, his face draining of color.
The remaining shards, still razor-sharp, morphed into a needle-thin streak and darted straight for him.
James didn't hesitate—he swung again.
Another dull thud rang out as the air around the leaf fragments shattered completely, turning into fine dust that scattered to the ground.
James froze, his blood boiling, threatening to spill, but he clenched his jaw and forced it down.
Just then, Lancelot lifted his fingers from the strings, and the tension in the air vanished like a popped bubble.
The Storm Pavilion fell silent once more.
Mia and the others snapped out of the trance, blinking in confusion as they looked between the two.
"Not bad," Lancelot raised his head, looking at James with a gentle smile. "Although you ran into some assistances, your will is as strong as before. No wonder you've reached such heights at such a young age. James, I have high expectations for your future achievements."
He did not hide his affection for James at all.
The trusted aides were shocked, never expecting Lancelot to have such high hopes and affection for James.
Out of the three hundred thousand in the Mystic Alliance, there were plenty of young prodigies—scholars, fighters—but none had ever earned this kind of recognition from Lancelot.
Even someone as talented as Ruby had only gotten a lukewarm "good" from him. It made them all rethink how they saw James.
Mia was floored. She'd expected Lancelot to come down hard on James, maybe even chew him out. Instead, he was practically glowing with approval.
James calmed his emotions and spoke, "Thank you for your praise, President Lancelot."
Lancelot picked up a cup of tea. "How is the situation in Los Angeles?"
James looked at Lancelot, "Halfthere. We'll wrap up the rest soon."
Lancelot chuckled softly. "You haven't even stepped out of Rosewood yet, and you're saying it's half done?"
He stood up and placed the teacup in James's hand, even flicking away the bloodstains on his collar.
"I killed Zachary and his family," James's tone was calm. "Without this person causing harm in the shadows, the situation in Los Angeles is not worth mentioning."
The moment he spoke, the aides' faces went pale. Their eyes darted to James, then to the severed head Mia had tossed aside like it was nothing.
It was Zachary's head.
They never expected that the person who had been chatting and laughing with them half an hour ago was now beheaded.
No wonder James could gain Lancelot's favor; his ruthlessness was so similar to him.
"Nice job," Lancelot smiled at James, "I'll be waiting for your promotion news in Stardust City."
He didn't even glance at Zachary's head, nor did he care about his death.
James's expression was firm. "I won't disappoint you, President Lan..."
However, before he could finish speaking, he instinctively stopped.
James looked towards the path they had come from.
Lancelot smiled faintly, "Unexpectedly, we have a distinguished guest."
As he spoke, shadows moved, and countless Mystic Alliance members emerged from the darkness.
At the same time, a powerful aura surged from not far away, enveloping everyone in the pavilion.
An old man in gray clothes, holding a red sword, came into James's view. "James, you're done for!"
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