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As Clair swaggered away, the disciples of the Hall of War could only watch in anger as he returned to the barbarian camp. There was nothing they could do.
When Clair reached Drucker, he quickly cupped his fists and greeted him with a grin. "Lord Drucker, I'll take my leave first."
After a few steps, Clair noticed Drucker's expression had turned dark. He glanced over and saw Drucker's hands clasped behind his back, fingers tightly twisted together, veins bulging. It was clear he was furious.
A sharp glint flashed in Clair's eyes.
This was the perfect chance to curry favor.
He had already...
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