Shiayar's calm words echoed in everyone's ears. The previously noisy campus fell into a peculiar silence in a flash, leaving only the crackling sound of the surrounding pillars of fire.
No one had expected Shiayar to say such a thing, not even the arsonists from the Ashes Cult. The tense atmosphere, like a drawn bowstring ready to snap, had been well established. They were all prepared for a fierce battle to erupt at any moment. Who would have thought the leader on the opposing side would suddenly signal surrender?
It was like throwing a punch that had built up for a long time into a wad of cotton, leaving an indescribably uncomfortable feeling.
The Arsonist leader was also stunned for several seconds before anger touched his ugly, acid-corroded face beneath the black robe. "Are you playing me?"
