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I looked around and asked, "Why are there so many people?"
The question sounded as if I were speaking to myself, but I was actually directing it at Lorcan. So why wasn't he answering?
"Lorcan," I called.
Lorcan was startled.
I had no idea what he was thinking, but he was standing there in a daze. I waved my hand in front of his unfocused eyes. "What's wrong? You seem completely out of it. Are you nervous?"
"No."
As a man who worked in an industry where underestimation equaled death, Lorcan answered such questions almost reflexively. Yet his face was pale and his lips were dry. He appeared so off that anyone could tell that something was wrong.
"Then why do you look so nervous?" I asked.
"I told you, I'm not nervous..." Lorcan started to deny it again, but his expression changed. He then sighed. "No, you're right. I am nervous right now."
"So why?" I pressed.
"My target clan also came to watch this promotion match," he replied.
"Clan? Which one?"
"Over there."
I followed the direction of his gesture. Their expressions were too fierce for typical heroes. Their attire reminded me of the warriors of the south, and a flag hung from a pole set between them.
"The pattern engraved there is… a scorpion?"
Lorcan nodded. "They're Desert Scorpion, a hero clan that mainly operates in the south."
"Really?" I had likely seen them a few times, but...
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