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The Iron-Blooded Lord's eyes seemed to linger on me for a long time. Seeing the stare from a distance, I wondered if leaving would be wiser.
Has he seen through me?
I wore the mask now, standing here not as Luan but as Nalu. I was borrowing the power of a magic tool, yet the crucial question remained: how convincing was this disguise?
A man of the Iron-Blooded Lord's caliber would hardly fail to notice. If he had recognized me, wouldn't he have shown some reaction by now?
The truth was, I had no idea. His face was so expressionless that it offered no clues.
"Hey. Are you deaf? Right now—"
I struck the back of the thug's head before he could finish. The urgency of the moment, combined with my own tension, made me hit harder than intended. The burly man fell with a grunt and passed out.
Will this fool even realize that I just saved his life? This isn't the time to worry about other people's lives.
Uncomfortable silence stretched again.
The Iron-Blooded Lord's detached gaze bore into me like stone. He had still not spoken. It felt deliberate, as if he were pressuring me to make the first move.
I also desperately forced my expression to stay calm while my mind raced.
Has he recognized me? Has he not? I hoped for the latter, though that hope felt hollow.
Should I just greet him? However, what if he hadn't realized? The risk was immense.
I studied him with unease. He wore no formal attire of a family head, only simple clothes that made him resemble a wanderer. That simplicity...
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