"Should the Lyra God be executed?"
When Oliver uttered these words, the Lyra people, who were in an uproar just a second before, fell silent at that very moment.
Whether it was those in the hall, those outside waiting for the verdict, or even the Devil's Army and the Skeleton Corps who were about to clash—swords and daggers drawn halfway—everyone stopped.
All eyes were focused on Oliver, to see if he was joking.
But clearly, Oliver was not about to joke at such a time. He had anticipated everyone's reaction and now, once again, he surveyed the representatives in the hall, letting all of Lyra hear his voice once more.
"I know this might initially seem incomprehensible, even hard to accept," Oliver said calmly, "but think about it, is it really that hard to accept?"
"Lyra is a place that pursues progress."
"Our city has always been filled with fresh blood, always vibrant, always the most creative place in the world."
"And it's because we've managed to do two things."
