Inside the Temple of the Goddess of Beauty’s Opera Hall, on the stage adorned with the seven-petaled lotus, Sandrina’s performance continued. Dressed in a rather revealing outfit, she performed a dance rich in implication and allure. Her movements mesmerized nearly everyone present; the entire audience was fixated on her, even when she suddenly flung her cane and shattered it. “That was… precise pre-reading and control of the desire behind one of my movements! Can the White Ash-rank abilities of the Desire Path be used like that? Heh… Adèle, no wonder you’ve repeatedly made the Wolfblood Society stumble in Tivian. As a senior… you’re far more adept at wielding your power.” After her cane was flung and shattered, Sandrina thought this to herself. Yet she did not stop dancing. She immediately retracted part of the power she’d spread outward to control others and used it on herself instead, suppressing her own desire to prevent Adèle from exploiting her again. Even without the cane, her ability seemed unaffected. “Some skill… but even so, all I’ve lost is a toy. That thing was just bait…” Continuing her thoughts, Sandrina resumed channeling her power on stage, gradually increasing her control over the surrounding audience’s desires. The loss of her cane didn’t deprive her of her Desire Path powers—completely contrary to what Adèle had assumed. “What… that cane… wasn’t a mystical item?! Her ability hasn’t been interrupted—it doesn’t come from the cane at all!” Adèle was shocked. Likewise, Dorothy, who had also been watching closely, responded in a low voice. “It seems that cane was just a decoy to trigger memories of your teacher and provoke your killing intent. Her ability must either come from another hidden mystical item… or from herself.” “From herself? Then… does that mean the Afterbirth Cult has already mastered the Desire Path?” Adèle’s tone was indignant, and Dorothy replied thoughtfully. “Your teacher was tortured and interrogated by the Wolfblood Society for a long time. She revealed large amounts of intelligence about the Desire Path. Combine that with the data gained through deep dissection and the Afterbirth Cult’s long-term research on the path—not to mention their mastery of flesh-based evil tech—they may very well have managed to recreate that Path’s inheritance to some degree. “And that might be why they could so casually grant your teacher’s brain—as a mystical item—to White Ash-rank members. By then, she was no longer of use to them.” “Teacher…” Hearing this, Adèle clenched her teeth. Although Darlene had passed on some of her spirit and knowledge to her, those memories didn’t include her late-stage experiences in the Cult’s hands. The main reason was that those memories were too cruel and mentally scarring—direct exposure would’ve been harmful to Adèle. She didn’t know what truly happened to her teacher in the end. “Those bastards… they’ve finally begun defiling the Desire Path in earnest… Did they overcome the protection that the Mistress of Flowers had placed on that branch?” Adèle murmured incredulously. Dorothy, catching this, asked curiously. “The Mistress of Flowers’ protection over a branch? You mean the Goddess of Love and Dance still has lingering influence over the Desire Path?” “That’s… complicated to explain right now. The urgent matter is to eliminate that woman on stage. Regardless of whether she has truly inherited the path, she has to die!” Determined, Adèle once again borrowed Dorothy’s computational power to predict Sandrina’s movements, hoping to influence one of them and make her fall, ending the dance. But Sandrina had already anticipated this. She had deliberately allocated some of her power to suppress her own desires. This slowed her dancing slightly, but made it harder for Adèle’s interference to take effect. If she sensed her desire being amplified, she could simply switch moves in time. As a result, Adèle’s interference was temporarily nullified—she could no longer influence Sandrina. Meanwhile, Sandrina’s control over desire continued growing. Soon, Adèle realized she was close to losing the upper hand. If she failed to suppress Sandrina, the dancer would gain complete control over Adèle and the rest of the Bourbon remnants’ murderous urges toward Samson—and the entire situation would spiral into chaos. “No good… her power keeps growing—I can’t suppress her much longer! That stage… it’s amplifying the power of the desire-dance. As long as she keeps dancing on it, I’ll never beat her!” With a grave expression, Adèle sent this message to Dorothy. Dorothy, who had been watching everything closely, responded swiftly. “So that’s the function of the stage… I see. Hang in there a bit longer, Adèle. I have a countermeasure—it just needs a little more time. I’ll bring something that can turn this around.” “Is that so? Then hurry up, little detective…” Gripping the railing, sweat dripping from her brow, Adèle muttered this to herself. For now, she had no choice but to place her hopes on Dorothy. … While this invisible battle raged on stage, on the main guest platform, Samson—seated at the head—also began noticing something strange. He’d originally been watching the performance with casual interest, but when Sandrina suddenly flung her cane and it shattered against a column, his brow furrowed. In that moment, she’d failed to control her strength. The cane’s crystal head shattered on impact, and the shaft bent from the force—something an ordinary person couldn’t do. Her displayed strength was abnormal. “That dancer on stage… something’s wrong!” Realizing this, Samson became uneasy. With his power, it should be impossible for anyone—except powerful Shadows—to hide from him. This dancer exhibited significant strength, likely as a Chalice Beyonder. Could she be carrying a powerful Shadow artifact to conceal herself? Either way, Samson now recognized that something was off. He couldn’t just sit idly and enjoy the show anymore. At the very least, the performance needed to be stopped, and the dancer taken in for questioning. Just as he was about to give the order to his nearby subordinates, he suddenly felt hesitant. Wouldn’t it be a shame to interrupt this performance? That dancer… while somewhat suspicious, was dancing impressively well. Maybe… he could wait until she finished? The moment that thought occurred, Samson was startled by himself. He furrowed his brow and clutched his temples—he had clearly been subtly influenced by some kind of mystical power. He tried to look away from the stage, but Sandrina’s dance had already imprinted itself in his mind. His instincts as a man had been stirred. He couldn't bear to look away. “Damn…” Samson immediately realized something was wrong. Though he was aware the dance was affecting him, he couldn’t pull away—like an addict consuming a dangerous substance, fully aware of the harm but unable to stop. “No… I have to find a way…” Unable to issue the command or look away, he decided to rely on indirect methods. Gathering his resolve, he activated his ability and muttered quietly. “By the authority vested in me as the Fourth Consul of the Republic of Falano, I, Legoff Samson… under Article 12 of the Constitution, citing the precedent of the 1247 Art Ban… hereby issue an emergency decree: all artistic performances in the Temple of the Goddess of Beauty… are prohibited. Effective immediately!” Muttering with great difficulty, Samson tried to convince himself he wasn’t targeting Sandrina’s dance specifically—just “banning art” in general—to create a mental loophole and weaken the influence of desire. He finally managed to invoke his ability as a Consul. But… nothing happened. Sandrina continued dancing on stage as if nothing had changed. She was completely unaffected. Samson’s eyes widened in shock. His entire expression froze in disbelief. “This is…” … Just as the scene of “singing and dancing in harmony” continued inside the Temple of the Goddess of Beauty, outside the temple—within a dense forest—a figure in a black cloak stood among the trees, watching the distant temple through the branches. From the darkness beneath the cloak, a deep murmur emerged. “In the name of the Second Consul of the Republic of Falano, I, Bastien Chevalier, hereby invoke the authority granted by Article 15 of the Falano Constitution to initiate a unilateral impeachment against the Fourth Consul, Legoff Samson. During the impeachment process... the functions of both Consuls shall be temporarily suspended…” Muttering thus, the Consul under the black robe unleashed the majority of his power to exert overwhelming suppression against the other Consul within the Temple of the Goddess of Beauty, virtually nullifying Samson’s strength and reducing him to nothing more than a helpless leaf adrift in the flood of desire roiling inside the temple. … Inside the Opera Hall of the Temple of the Goddess of Beauty, Sandrina continued to dance upon the seven-petaled lotus stage. With the stage’s amplification, her power grew steadily over time as she performed. Her seductive movements and enchanting smile captivated nearly everyone present, tightening her grip on their hearts and desires—manipulating them with ease. Even Samson had fallen completely under her spell, unable to move from his seat. Sandrina stoked the murderous intent within the hearts of the Bourbon remnants, especially their hatred toward Samson, pushing that hatred toward a tipping point. If it weren’t for Adèle’s suppression, they would have long since acted on that desire to kill. But… Adèle’s suppression could not hold much longer. As Sandrina’s power continued to grow, Adèle struggled more and more to restrain both herself and the others. If not for that earlier moment when Adèle disrupted one of Sandrina’s moves—forcing her to allocate more power to defense and thus slow her dance—Adèle might already have lost control. “Not… yet?” Sweat dripped from Adèle’s brow in large beads as she thought this. And just as she felt herself nearing her limit, Dorothy’s voice rang again in her ear. “It’s ready. Adèle, go now—head to the right wing of the Opera Hall. You’ll find the outfit I prepared. Put it on and head to the Ceremonial Plaza. I’ll handle suppression here in the meantime…” “Huff… got it…” Exhaling deeply, Adèle took two steps back, lifted her skirt, and quickly ran out of the hall. Seeing this, Sandrina thought to herself. “She ran? Heh… and she thinks she can actually get away? As soon as Samson dies and Chevalier regains his full power as Consul, there’ll be no escape for you… This is Falano’s territory, after all…” With this thought, Sandrina accelerated her dance, amplifying her control over the desires of the remaining Bourbon remnants. Logically, with Adèle gone, they should have immediately charged at Samson under her influence. But that didn’t happen. The Bourbon remnants, scattered throughout the venue, now showed abnormal signs of trembling. Though their eyes remained fixed on the main guest platform, and they clearly wished to act—they could not move a muscle. Their bodies were locked in place by a will not their own. This… was Dorothy’s doing. Since she knew the masterminds behind the scenes planned to assassinate Samson and frame the Bourbon remnants, she had, naturally, made preparations. During Samson’s entry, Dorothy’s corpse marionette, using the intimacy-building prowess of the Bewitching Dreams Path, had made contact with each of the remnants and secretly left behind Marionette Marks. Now, Dorothy’s spiritual threads linked to each of them. Through this control, she suppressed Sandrina’s influence, halting the remnants in place. Dorothy did not order her marionette to directly attack Sandrina. Doing so might have triggered everyone under Sandrina’s influence to develop hostility toward the attacker, giving Sandrina even more leverage through their provoked killing intent. Nor did Dorothy choose to stun the remnants with electricity to eliminate their threat—because that might drive Sandrina to abandon her original plan and target other uninvolved guests instead. And most of those guests were not under Dorothy’s control. Being at the edge of Falano’s capital, she couldn’t afford to manifest more spiritual threads en masse using Crimson-rank abilities. Thus, her best option was to draw Sandrina into a tug-of-war for control over the Bourbon remnants. And Sandrina took the bait. “That Adèle… does she have accomplices here? Or is someone else interfering with my control over the Bourbons… Seems she came prepared, huh? “But… as long as I stand on this temple’s stage, my power is unstoppable. No matter what kind of control you use, I will win…” Sandrina believed the power resisting her was strong—but not invincible. She could feel that once her power grew a bit more, she would be able to strengthen the Bourbon remnants’ desires to the point of breaking any restraints—granting them inhuman compulsion and drive. What she didn’t know was that this illusion was precisely what Dorothy wanted her to feel. During the battle for control, Dorothy deliberately let Sandrina believe she could win, to prevent her from taking desperate actions against uninvolved guests. But as a Crimson-rank Beyonder, Dorothy’s spiritual thread manipulation wasn’t something a single enchanted stage could overcome. … While the silent tug-of-war continued inside the opera hall, outside at the Ceremonial Plaza, many minor nobles—those without enough status to be inside—were gathered. Some dined and chatted in the open air, while others tried to peek through the open doors to glimpse the main event. None of them were aware of the growing tension inside. Just as the secondary banquet continued as usual, a cry of surprise suddenly rang out among the crowd. Many turned their heads toward the sound and saw a commotion forming. Curious, one man picked up his wine glass and walked toward the crowd. After squeezing through several layers of people, he finally saw what had caught their attention. In the center of the gathering was a gorgeously dressed lady walking forward. Her robes were embroidered with golden threads, and her high-waisted gown sparkled with countless gemstones and pearls. She wore fine white silk stockings and crystal high heels. Luxurious jewelry adorned her neck and wrists. Her beautiful face was half-covered by a golden mask, and among her cascading golden hair, jeweled hairpieces sparkled. A fresh floral crown rested on her head. Her presence was dazzling, noble, and breathtaking. Such extravagant attire was immediately recognized by some present—it was one of the most important ceremonial pieces displayed in the Temple of the Goddess of Beauty: a costume worn by King Charles himself during his grand banquets! It was the very outfit he donned when portraying the “Forest Dancer”! Traditionally, the Forest Dancer appeared in literature and art as a simple, graceful figure. But Charles had reimagined it entirely—his version was magnificently luxurious and aristocratic. This costume represented his vision. “Why is one of the temple’s artifacts being worn in public? And how does it fit so well? She looks like King Charles reborn. Is this a new performance for the Audience Banquet?” These questions flickered through many minds. But the lady in ceremonial dress paid no mind to the mesmerized gazes around her. She walked steadily forward, the crowd parting before her. Eventually, she arrived in front of the Dome Hall, before the great round fountain—the Fountain of Dawn. She lifted her head, gazing at the intricate statue and the beautiful waterworks, standing motionless. Suddenly, the fountain began to change. The spray nozzles shifted direction automatically, transforming their upward jets into interlacing arcs. In a precisely choreographed sequence, the crisscrossing water jets began to form overlapping patterns. From above, one could see them sketching the shape of flower petals. Gradually, the water columns outlined a full blossom—a massive lotus flower of flowing water. It had seven petals, forming the image of a Seven-Step Blooming Lotus. As the lotus blossomed atop the Fountain of Dawn, the entire fountain transformed. With a rumble, the sculptures around it slid aside, and a large round platform rose from the water’s surface, revealing itself to the public—as though inviting someone to step upon it. “So this is… the second hidden stage in King Charles’s palace? It’s beautiful…” Gazing at the watery lotus stage, Adèle—now wearing her ceremonial attire—couldn’t help but sigh in admiration. For a moment, she felt rather proud to share blood with such an ancestor. At the very least… she deeply appreciated his aesthetic and his romantic ideals.