Wintry Cruelty

“Leave the auction and convention to me, I’ll get you a host and spread the news,” Agamemnon said with a nod.

Richard smiled, “That’s a relief. Right, why are you still level 17? Becoming a saint shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

It had been a while since they had last met, and Agamemnon was currently taller, darker, and slightly thinner. His body still looked to be made of steel, not extravagant in the slightest but extremely sturdy for what it was. Even so, he was still at level 17.

“Umm… It’s a family secret… Ugh, I was going to tell you anyway. You’ve heard of Philip the First, right? The third generation head of my family? He was one of the most powerful beings in all of Norland during his time, touching upon the laws...