Leslie territory, Tanzan Town, the tall and thin Viscount Andrew walked up to the city wall, looking towards the dock area from the vantage point on the wall.
The newly-constructed port tower stood tall by the White River, its beautiful spire reflecting a dreamy glow in the sunlight. Down below, thousands of sails traversed the White River, and the various boats scurried back and forth like busy ants, presenting a bustling scene along the entire waterway.
This kind of bustling and lively scene began last year.
A chilly breeze came, making his throat, sensitive from excessive consumption of Magic Potion, uncomfortable. Viscount Andrew Leslie couldn't help but cough violently, and the butler standing by immediately stepped forward to drape a warm long-haired coat over his master.
The newly hired butler, less than a year into service, was a bit worried, "Viscount, you should go back and rest."
