And so, at the "polite" invitation of numerous Knights, Arthur, Calvin, and a pale-faced Glen had no choice but to follow them into the quiet noble fiefdom.
They passed through deserted farmhouses and a silent mill, following a clean flagstone path until they soon reached the small castle built on a gentle slope.
Chen Yu carefully poked out his Gel head to observe what was inside.
The castle courtyard was impeccably maintained, with lush green grass dotted with several rose bushes.
At this moment, beneath a sprawling oak tree in the center of the courtyard, sat a white, wrought-iron table and chairs.
A man who appeared to be in his early thirties, his black hair streaked with silver, sat there leisurely. At his elbow rested a cup of black tea, wisps of steam curling from its surface. He looked for all the world like an ordinary gentleman enjoying a tranquil afternoon.
