<h4>Chapter 1778: Chapter 1778: Home Invasion</h4>


    The dinner party proceeded very unpleasantly.


    Everyone seemed to have little interest.


    The host had lost his son, and naturally was not in good spirits.


    The only one who seemed satisfied might be the Ocean Academy.


    Anyone could see that the two families were at odds.


    But on Han Caldwell’s turf, the Ocean Academy took not a single loss and even killed Han Caldwell’s son. They really got the upper hand!


    Yet, as themander of the three armies, Han Caldwell had to swallow his pride and silently endure.


    Finally, at ten o’clock at night.


    The dinner party ended in disarray.


    "West Tower, your move was really impressive!" Brant Fairbanks walked alongside Julius Reed, unable to resist giving a thumbs-up. "Making Han Caldwell kill his own son, there’s probably nothing more humiliating than that. But to be honest, I have a bit of respect for him. Although this action was rather ruthless, it significantly boosted his reputation."


    The best situation would have been for Han Caldwell to lose everyone’s trust while trying to save his son’s life.


    But clearly, everyone here was an old fox; no one would easily fall for it.


    "Where in the world is anything perfect? Killing Cold Thousand Names is enough." Julius Reed walked slowly, speaking in a low voice. "At least in everyone’s eyes, you are no less powerful than Han Caldwell. When you eventually confront him, many people will support you."


    "Yes, that is the biggest gain." Brant Fairbanks was immensely satisfied, almost forgetting about the West Tower’s appointment asmander.


    "By the way." As they were walking, he suddenly recalled something and hurriedly asked, "Are you feeling unwell in any way?"


    "No." Julius Reed shook his head.


    "And Baylor?" Brant Fairbanks asked again.


    "Baylor had a brief difort in the evening, but after half an hour, there were no issues." Julius Reed replied.


    Once Brant Fairbanks saw Baylor Davenport fully recovered, he would probably be quite stunned.


    But by that time, the focus had already shifted to the path of conquest.


    "That Devlin doesn’t seem like a good person at all." Brant Fairbanks recalled the masked man and reminded, "He is more dangerous than Han Caldwell."


    "The one to be guarded against, he’s not an easy fellow to deal with." As Julius Reed walked, he suddenly stopped. "Dean, I’ll go see Olindo Caldwell, and returnter."


    "The marriage engagement is already set, what’s the rush?" Brant Fairbanks was a bit worried.


    If West Tower suffered any loss along the way, his ns would be dyed.


    Having just killed Han Caldwell’s son, now was the time for a carefree stroll?


    That would be highly arrogant.


    "Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself." After Julius Reed said this, he gave no opportunity for further advice from Han Caldwell and turned to head towards Olindo Caldwell’s residence at the Dark Moon Pce.


    Brant Fairbanks was helpless, so he just headed back on his own.


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    However,


    After walking for more than a kilometer, Preston Caldwell emerged from the darkness.


    He stood respectfully in front of Julius Reed.


    "My lord, I have important news, but I don’t know if I should report it to you."


    "Speak." Julius Reed opened his mouth softly.


    Before the dinner party ended, Preston Caldwell had already made arrangements with Julius Reed to meet here.


    "Our Ghost Martial Tribe’s High Priest had been here before." Preston Caldwell lowered his voice and peeked around to make sure no one was nearby before he dared to continue. "The High Priest discovered something unusual here. We suspect that the leader’s corpse might be nearby."


    "Is that so? The High Priest?" Julius Reed slightly furrowed his brows.


    The affairs of the Ghost Martial Tribe were rted to his dreams.


    This was a bold conjecture Julius Reed had made after experiencing many dreams.


    Now, Preston Caldwell’s words instantly piqued his interest.


    "Our Ghost Martial Tribe has statues of the leader all over the world. Whenever they encounter anything rted to the leader, like his corpse or foes, they emit a glow."


    "Coincidentally, a famous High Priest from the Ghost Martial Tribe was touring the world and found something unusual while checking the statues. He tried to figure out what was going on through the statue and discovered an overwhelming presence nearby! A superpower!"


    When Preston Caldwell mentioned this unparalleled expert, there was fear in his eyes.


    A fear from the heart.


    "You know, the Ghost Martial Tribe’s High Priest is especially skilled in spiritual control, almost never failing. But in my room, that High Priest suffered a bacsh and was nearly killed!"


    The more Julius Reed listened, the more familiar it sounded.


    So that’s what happened!


    No wonder!


    No wonder that person in the dream attacked him!


    It turned out that the Ghost Martial Tribe’s High Priest was in control.


    "Where did that High Priest go? And that statue, take me to see it."


    Julius Reed was quite curious. The North Sea believed Pruitt Wilde to be a god.


    He wanted to see if the statue looked exactly like the one Baylor Davenport drew.


    "It’s broken." Preston Caldwell appeared regretful. "It was shattered. The High Priest didn’t die, but I reckon he was severely injured. But he’s gone out to report, so I believe it won’t take long for our Ghost Martial Tribe members toe and check out who caused the statue to react."


    Broken?


    Julius Reed furrowed his brows slightly.


    Was it necessary to shatter something just with a simple kick?


    Or were the Ghost Martial Tribe’s High Priests all useless?


    Incapable?


    "This matter must remain confidential, and no actions must be taken to alert the enemy!" Preston Caldwell checked his surroundings, lowered his voice, cautioned, "At the Boulevard conference, powerful figures are everywhere. I guess that master is definitely mingling among the Martial Artists. We will remain silent and pretend not to know, and wait for our tribesmen to arrive and find out who that master is!"


    "Okay, I’ll definitely keep your secret and won’t tell anyone." Julius Reed nodded. Now that he understood, there was no need to tell others. "Will the Saintesse?"


    He wanted to ask Lillian Tompson what exactly was going on.


    How was Pruitt Wilde’s death rted to him?


    And why did he often appear in his dreams?


    "The Saintess wille. By the way,st time you said Pendleton knew about the leader’s corpse, but before we could act, Andrew ran away!" Preston Caldwell’s face was full of regret.


    "Don’t worry, I’ll help you." Julius Reed thought for a moment and suddenly said, "Show me our leader’s photo. I’ve been in too many fightstely and hurt my brain. If I encounter the corpse, it will help me recognize it."


    "Alright!"


    Preston Caldwell took out his phone without any hesitation and handed it over.


    He knew how much energy Julius Reed had expended fighting.


    As he gazed at the man on the screen, Julius Reed fell into deep thought.


    What a character.


    Sure enough, it looked just like the one Baylor Davenport painted.


    Although the photo depicted merely a statue.


    The statue was realistic enough.


    "Someone’sing; I should leave." Preston Caldwell cautiously observed behind him before swiftly disappearing into the darkness.


    Just as he left, a shadow appeared.


    "As per your instructions, Olindo Caldwell has been taken to the Boulevard Mountains. As soon as Han Caldwell leaves, we will take over his old stronghold!"


    "Very good. Once Han Caldwell departs, you are to immediately cleanse his forces and install Merrill Caldwell in power."


    Julius Reed gave the order without any expression.