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Scratch, scratch, scratch.
The only sound that filled the office of Sefira’s patriarch was the pen moving incessantly across paper, followed at times by the muted tapping of someone deep in thought.
“I want to beat this bastard to death,” cursed Elder Panir as he reviewed documents.
However, neither Hissop nor Elder Reganon so much as looked up. They continued to read and sign their own piles of papers.
“...‘I was impressed by Sefira’s performance at the Sword of the South Tournament. Why not pay our house a visit?’ Ha, have you ever seen such a damn bastard? They still think they can treat us like we’re nothing!”
The fine parchment Panir held stretched taut. It was about to tear, but he stopped just short of actually ripping it. This was for good reason, as the family that had sent the letter was none other than the Duke Forte, the Masters of Swordsmanship of the west. The Forte family was not only a master family but also the house of one of the Four Lords.
Thus, even if Sefira was also a master family and the recent victor of the tournament, their proposal could not be dismissed lightly. Yet, accepting it without caution wasn’t the answer either.
“What’s their angle? Forte never even treated us as equals, and now they’re throwing around a grand word like ‘impressed’ in a personal letter from the duke?”
Panir began analyzing...
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