"Your Majesty Ibrayin, I implore you... please don't..."
At this moment, King Tiha Moyier spoke in a hoarse and faint voice.
Ibrayin slightly tilted his head to glance at him.
A mixture of pleading, hope, and anxiety washed over the face of the Yake King, and he shook his head subtly. It was uncertain whether it was an illusion, but it seemed as if the Saintly Majesty let out a light sigh.
The scene fell silent once more for several seconds.
"What do you want?"
Ibrayin suddenly said to Chen Lun.
Seeing this, everyone could not help but heave a sigh of relief, their hearts slightly calming down. Since His Majesty Ibrayin had spoken in such a manner, there was still room for maneuver. They had truly feared that the two would come to blows, and then, as the other had said, everyone present would die a pitiful death without any power to resist, swept up in the aftermath of their clash.
This would be too grievous, too frustrating...
"How about everyone takes a step back."
