After watching Ian enter the valley, Count Pale turned to look at Veilant.
“His name is… Ian, was it?”
“Yes, sir.”
Veilant lowered his head before answering.
Count Pale rubbed his chin for a moment, then nodded.
“Where’s he from?”
“Do you mean Knight Ian?”
“Who else would I be asking about?”
“I haven’t asked about where he is from. He seemed reluctant to reveal details about himself.”
“I see. I’m unsure where he’s from, but he will survive this battle. Later when I meet him again… I better get my hands on him.”
Count Pale murmured to himself.
Veilant couldn’t properly hear what he said but nodded along.
Count Pale frowned once, then glanced down at his sword.
Now that he was old, he didn’t have many opportunities to use it, but deep inside, he was still passionate about wielding his weapon.
‘That...
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