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Leon blinked wide at the incomprehensible display. The sword at the man’s hip swayed with each peal of laughter.
Why the man burst into laughter the moment they met, Leon couldn’t understand. He could only stand there, bewildered.
This has to be the chief of the Bedouin…
The beastkin had never invaded the desert, not only because there was little to gain from victory, but because the Bedouins had one man: a Swordmaster who could stand on par with the Beast King himself. That man was Al Razzaz the Tyrant.
He was a literal one-man army. An asymmetric force that could annihilate legions alone.
“Hahahahaha! Truly, heaven has not abandoned me, Al Razzaz! Come forth, honored guest! I never imagined this would be my way out of this trouble!”
Finding himself strangely welcomed, Leon lowered the hand resting on his hilt and asked, “You know who I am?”
Al Razzaz’s reply was so brazen it was borderline shameless.
“Not in the slightest!”
Leon was struck speechless, while Al Razzaz strode over without hesitation, turning to Zahar at his side. At the chief’s gaze, Zahar immediately dropped to his knees.
“I, Warrior Zahar, return having fulfilled the command entrusted to me!”
“Stand!”...
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