“I-I’m sorry. I can’t believe that… you came all the way here…” the guard captain apologized.

“There’s no need for you to apologize. We’ll take care of the protesters, so please stop the forced suppression order. Leave the minimum number of soldiers and order the rest to stand by,” I ordered.

“Y-Yes, sir,” he answered.

“Additionally, send the priests in right away and treat the injured. Get rid of the carriages that are stacked up like a wall. Whoo…” I added.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to keep apologizing. All you did was follow orders. You handled the situation according to the manual. Anyway, we’ll have to see if you really have nothing to apologize for… More importantly, where’s Mr. Mikhail?” I asked.

“We sent a message the moment you arrived. I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” he answered.

‘This bastard.’

I walked down the landing pad amidst the cheers, and the guard captain immediately came to greet me. It was absurd how he kept on talking desperately, but I could understand...