Back in the Palace of the Kingdom of Axelor, the two people who were supposed to be thousands of years old were staring at the screen in front of them, dumbstruck due to the scene that they were witnessing.
Arnold couldn't believe it. In all his years of scheming and planning against foes, he had always trusted his instinct in reading them, and assessing what they would and wouldn't do.
For example, someone who was supposed to be as smart as the King of Lanthanor would never enter enemy territory, alone, and then demand to enter even deeper inside to risk his own life.
All for…what? A few thousand people?
It didn't make sense!
Even while the domineering dialogue of the King seemed to echo in his mind, he just couldn't make sense of it.
Weren't you supposed to be one of the best in this age, at least in the Central Continent? Aren't you the one who came up with all those crazy ideas, just like the Emperor, and even succeeded in implementing them?
