The armored man was no fool—nor was he deaf. Though visibly irritated by Francis's mocking tone, he had still caught bits of what the boy had said.
His gaze swept quickly across the battlefield, and then—his entire body froze.
Everywhere he looked, the bodies strewn across the ground bore the unmistakable signs of high-level magical cultivation.
Almost all of them were Legendary mages.
A cold shiver crept up his spine.
Without another word, he moved. Slowly, deliberately, he strode toward a silver-haired youth who had accompanied the now-dead elder in the navy blue robes.
Moments later, he stood before him and grabbed him by the collar, yanking him up from the ground.
"Grey, what the hell happened here?"
The armored man's voice was low and gravelly, thick with suspicion.
The youth—Grey—kept his head down, eyes flickering toward the red-haired woman not far away.
