Lord Treas brought his attention in one single shout. It was clear as day that the man hovering above was some sort of captain of the guards where the siblings came from and the ten other people alongside him were of course under his command.
"And who are you?" asked the captain.
"I'm Lor... I'm Vargas of Treas," said the Lord of Treas as he bent one of his knees easily. The thick armor made a loud clank against the floor he was standing on as the haughty Treas suddenly forgot about his enmity against Lyon Torga.
The old man was not a fool, his long life had taught him something, and that something was, to know when to concede. However, the act of his kneeling was scorned by his son that was healing from the choke that the blonde man, Altre, did to him.
The fact that his father killed his mother couldn't get out of his mind no matter how much gray hair he had on his head, though he had none at the moment.
