CHAPTER 455: CHAPTER 295: IT’S ALL ABOUT AUTHENTICITY_2

"What does she have that I don’t? I am the Seeker of Omens! She’s just a liar, a traitor! Why would you rather believe her than me?"

"Why! Why!!!"

Her outburst not only failed to calm her but instead plunged her into an even more extreme emotional state.

However, Lance paid little attention to her words. His reaction only incited Amanda further, and she decided this arrogant fool had to suffer.

"Since you know, why did you still come in?"

Amanda shouted frantically, activating the secret technique. Even the sparse Spiritual Essence in the air seemed to stir, instantly converging upon the ritual and triggering an even more terrifying surge.

"Because..." Lance grinned, showing no sign of being trapped. "My strength is beyond your imagination!"

With that, Lance began to exert his strength, the muscles on his body bulging.

"HRMPH!"

Although the immense pressure from the ritual made his movements seem a beat slow, it still couldn’t stop him from standing up.

Only Amanda, who controlled the ritual, knew how terrifying that strength truly was.

Why?

Why could someone resist the power of the ritual?

Even though her Spiritual Essence was draining away like flowing water, she couldn’t hinder him in the slightest.

This kind of strength... It was no longer that of a mere Master, nor that of a Champion...

As Amanda looked up, an overwhelming sense of despair washed over her. The man standing before her seemed not human, but an Ancient Demon God slowly awakening.

Lance stood straight, slowly lifting his head to meet Amanda’s nearly crumbling expression. He didn’t need to do much; he merely raised his right hand and made a fist.

The fist moved. At first, it was like slow motion, only a slight shift, yet Amanda could see the muscles on his arm trembling.

But as the fist began to accelerate, his movement caused the surrounding air to ripple almost imperceptibly, as if it were a colloid.

The fist’s speed increased, becoming enveloped in a dense white fog. Finally, the ritual restraining him could no longer withstand Lance’s power.

"GRAH!" A single roar shattered all restraints. Countless white cracks spontaneously appeared in the space touched by Lance’s fist, as if that single punch had directly smashed the space itself.

These cracks continued to spread, accompanied by a crisp sound like shattering mirrors filling the air.

"CRACK... CRACK-CRACK... CRACK-CRACK-CRACK..."

At first, there were only one or two. Soon, however, the crisp sounds repeated densely in the air. White cracks completely enveloped Lance’s surroundings, finally revealing the extent of the space constrained by the strange secret technique.

Finally, the ritual items arrayed before him exploded and shattered. Amanda, suffering from the backlash, couldn’t help but cry out in pain.

"AH!"

Her hand holding the Crystal Ball felt as if it were seared by intense heat, and she instinctively let go. The Crystal Ball dropped onto the carpet.

But at that moment, she had no time to worry about such things; the fist that had broken through the ritual’s bonds was hurtling towards her.

Swift! Overpowering! It possessed unparalleled strength...

Amanda watched the fist grow larger. She paid no mind to the backlash; she was frozen solid, not daring to move an inch. Even her breathing had stopped subconsciously.

She instinctively closed her eyes. Her heart felt as if a great hand had fiercely squeezed it, and in that instant, it stopped beating.

But the pain Amanda expected never came. After a moment, her eyelids trembled open. The fist was stopped right in front of her face; she could even feel the warmth of her own breath reflecting back from it.

"Why... why?" Amanda was almost at a loss for words.

"What ’why’? Are you asking why I didn’t hit you?"

Lance lowered his fist. There was no anger on his face, not even much emotion; he was still so calm. "Because I don’t like bloodshed, and Hamlet doesn’t allow fighting or brawling."

Amanda said nothing, merely looking up into his eyes. She felt as if this man was toying with her.

Just like hunters enjoy watching their prey struggle in its death throes...

"You don’t believe me?" Lance chuckled casually. "But I didn’t hit you. That’s the reality."

It could be said that Amanda’s actions had always been within his expectations, all part of the script. As the director, he naturally wouldn’t become too emotional.

Moreover, he aimed to seek cooperation with the Seekers of Omens behind Amanda. Injuring or killing a Seeker of Omens elite, someone with a significant background, would be highly irrational at this point.

Lance’s words were a huge shock to Amanda, yet they were undeniably true. But what could she say now?

"I lost. Do as you please."

Admitting defeat was her last act of defiance.

"Really? Anything I want?" Lance looked at her, genuinely surprised.

His blatant stare made Amanda extremely uncomfortable, and an expression of disgust naturally surfaced on her face.

However, Lance’s next words stunned her.

"Give me this vehicle."

Lance had coveted that thing for a long time. In some ways, he and Tamara were both Hoarders.

Whenever they saw something good, they both wanted to get their hands on it, regardless of its usefulness.

Not to mention, this vehicle was incredibly useful to him. If logistics limited an army’s operational range, then the ability to manipulate space could achieve many things currently impossible. If he could get his hands on this technology...