Sylas's voice suddenly cut off mid-sentence.
His expression stiffened as if he had realized something. "No way…" he muttered, furrowing his brows.
Laxus watching him with amusement, he casually sank into the sofa and took a sip from a cup of tea, utterly relaxed.
"For years, there have been whispers about Don Ferocelli's so-called neutrality, right? I always thought they might cause trouble at some point, but I never expected them to stir up something this big."
"…It's true that there were rumors about Don Ferocelli aligning with the anti-monarchist faction. But are you seriously suggesting they're connected to the king's brother? That fool hardly seems capable of orchestrating something like this…"
Sylas pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh before finally lowering himself onto the sofa.
Just as he did, Laxus reached into his inner pocket and casually held up a folded piece of paper.
A letter?
