Bang!

As soldiers’ gunshots were heard and bullets whizzed past her, Sinclair bit her lip and ducked down.

These weren’t stray bullets. The army was deliberately aiming at her.

The cathedral chairs where Sinclair was hiding began to shatter under the continuous gunfire.

‘They’re targeting me!’

It was clear that the Albion military not only knew about today’s terror plot but also exactly who was the leader of the Lensk forces.

She had to admit it now.

Their terror attack had failed. All that remained was death.

Sinclair raised her head. Her eyes met with a man hiding behind another chair.

He was one of her followers who had shown particularly fanatical loyalty.

‘Being the third son of a rural noble family, it’s understandable.’

This was Albion, where primogeniture was the law.

If parents had equal affection for their children, they might distribute inheritance appropriately during their lifetime, but noble families that adhered to tradition or poor households still strictly maintained primogeniture.

Dividing property would make it difficult to maintain the family name as the already small fortune would disappear.

That man was born into such a family and came to the capital penniless, receiving nothing.

Still, bearing a noble family name, he was often invited to appropriate gatherings, but the difference in wealth created a growing inferiority complex that made him increasingly angry at the world.

Those were the kind of people Sinclair sought.

People who had received higher education but harbored dissatisfaction and anger toward the world. And those with ambition.

When she validated their anger, agreeing that the world was wrong, they were overjoyed to have finally found someone who understood them.

Sinclair had used them efficiently.

Sinclair nodded to them. They had time and passion.

How many followers like them were there, people like the one now taking out explosives from his pocket, ready to sacrifice himself?

Sinclair saluted him with a solemn expression.

Not in the Albion way, but in the Lensk manner.

The man briefly showed an expression of being moved by Sinclair’s salute, then with a resolute face, gripped the explosive tightly and stood up.

“Vile and corrupt nobles! Die!”

He shouted this despite bearing a noble name himself.

Soldiers shot at him, but even as he staggered, he managed to throw the explosive toward where the priests had fled.

Boom!

An explosion louder than before rang out.

Screams were heard simultaneously.

When Sinclair quickly peeked out to look, she saw several Albion soldiers fallen.

Judging by the blood spreading from their bodies, they had clearly taken direct hits from the recent explosion.

The soldiers who had been continuously pushing back the Lensk forces momentarily lost formation due to the unexpectedly powerful explosion.

“Take them back!”

“Quickly, to the hospital!”

The soldiers’ formation broke as they desperately pulled and moved their comrades who were still breathing among the injured.

Seeing this opportunity, the terrorists all rose and launched another attack.

Screams and explosions followed one after another.

“Protect His Highness the Prince!”

“Shoot! There, over there!”

A fierce battle began inside the cathedral.

No matter how large, it was too narrow a space for combat.

Moreover, successive explosions had created a large hole in one corner of the cathedral.

Eloise and Ryan, who had been trying to approach the prince and Baron Stanford, could no longer move forward due to the shower of stained glass fragments.

Ryan immediately embraced Eloise protectively.

Stones and broken glass rained down on their heads.

A large fragment grazed Ryan’s ear.

Startled by his groan, Eloise raised her head to check on him.

Blood was already streaming down his face.

A sharp fragment had fallen and created a long wound on the side of his face.

“Are you okay? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. It just grazed me!”

Ryan tried to reassure Eloise, but seeing the blood dripping onto the floor, he knew his words wouldn’t be convincing.

At that moment, Sinclair’s eyes widened as she looked toward the two.

‘Ryan?’

Even amid the explosions, the name Eloise had uttered penetrated her ears.

Sinclair looked at the two again, risking danger.

At first, she had been focused only on Eloise, but now she noticed the man beside her, shielding Eloise as if to protect her from any danger.

For a moment, that man’s eyes met Sinclair’s.

And in that instant, Sinclair recognized the identity of the man Eloise had called Ryan.

Although his appearance was somewhat different from what Eloise had described, it was definitely Ryan.

Ryan Wilgrave.

And Colonel Ryan.

Upon realizing this, Sinclair felt dizzy.

She had thought this funeral was prepared by the Albion military to avenge his loss.

But the fact that Ryan Wilgrave was alive right there meant that from the very beginning, all of this had been a meticulously planned trap.

Sinclair shouted with a voice full of rage.

“There! Colonel Wilgrave is over there! We must kill him!”

But her voice was completely drowned out by the continuing explosions and screams.

“Lady Sinclair!”

Sinclair turned at someone else’s call.

Another comrade running toward her was shot in the chest and collapsed.

The gun he was holding slid across the floor to Sinclair’s feet.

Sinclair immediately picked it up and aimed at Ryan and Eloise.

Bang!

The gun fired and created a large gash in the marble column behind Eloise, sending fragments flying.

Bang! Bang!

Sinclair fired madly in their direction.

Other Lenskians who saw what she was aiming at joined in shooting, not even knowing what was there.

Eloise and Ryan quickly hid behind wooden chairs, but a soldier nearby was hit by their bullets and fell.

Eloise ducked lower and looked through the gap between the chairs toward where Sinclair was.

“There! We must kill those hiding over there! That’s more urgent than the prince!”

Eloise felt a chill seeing Sinclair glaring at their location with flashing eyes.

It was clear she had realized not only her desire for revenge against Eloise but also that Ryan was Colonel Wilgrave whom Sinclair had been looking for.

If things continued this way, not only would they be in danger, but so would everyone around them.

“Then…”

Eloise pulled Ryan’s arm.

He turned to look at her, his face still covered in blood.

To his questioning look, Eloise shouted.

“We need to get out of here! Sinclair is targeting us!”

Ryan nodded in agreement.

He too could see that the fire was concentrated on them.

If they moved elsewhere now, some of the Lensk terrorists would surely split up and follow them.

That would make it easier for the remaining soldiers in the cathedral to subdue the others.

Ryan counted the gunshots.

The pistols used by both Lensk and Albion were similar.

‘They’re all rapid-fire, aren’t they?’

And afterward, they would need some time to cool down.

When the gunshots somewhat subsided, he grabbed Eloise and said.

“Let’s run toward that collapsed area!”

Without hesitation, Eloise got up and ran with him.

A couple of gunshots were heard, but they never stopped running.

“Good!”

“Isn’t there another way out?”

Shouts from the Lenskians who hadn’t expected them to escape outside were heard from behind.

Outside, the battle was still ongoing.

If they hid awkwardly here, more soldiers could get hurt.

‘We need to get away completely!’

Just as she thought this, Eloise spotted a horse rearing up in panic.