After Bain went down to arrange the harvest of swamp wheat, Lear, in a rather good mood, continued to drink tea and admire the fish.
Rarely did he get to relax, so he didn't want to bother with these trivial matters.
As the helmsman, the execution-level tasks should be more trusted to those below him.
Just like he told Bain.
Time slowly passed, the sun leaned west, twilight lingered.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted from the residents behind.
Lear instinctively turned to look.
He found the crowd watching something, gathered together.
While wondering, suddenly, two ferocious and savage figures flew into mid-air, beginning a fierce battle.
One was without a head, wielding a heavy war axe.
One had dark red wings growing from its back, curved double horns on its head, and a vicious posture.
Great Demon vs. Flesh Butcher.
Though their battle was frenzied, neither had any intent to kill.
It was obvious they were sparring with each other.
Seeing this, Lear also became interested.
