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Chapter 364 - Heavy Is The Crown

The crowd, brought out of their shock, roared.

It was instinctual and reflexive...

Blind.

"HIS HAND!"

"HE RAISES HIS HAND!"

"HE'S DONE IT!"

"THE SULTAN LIVES!"

They screamed in triumph, erupting as if the sky itself had declared them victorious.

"HE WON!"

"GLORY TO HIM!"

"Praise the Chosen Blood!"

"The Sword of Fam Iblis!"

"WE ARE SAVED!"

Soldiers fell to their knees in relief, children were hoisted into the air, priests wept into their robes, women collapsed in prayer, men embraced one another, and nobles tossed gold into the crowd.

It was hysteria.

Celebration.

Elation.

The cheering was so loud, so violent, it was like thunder had descended on the Holy City.

And yet—through all that noise—

Malik saw.

He saw what they couldn't.

Because Cyrus's hand, raised high... wasn't pointed to the heavens.

They thought—oh—they thought he was pointing to victory.

No.

It was pointed forward.

It was pointed at the hill he stood on.

At him.

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