The mage stood in front of Kant with extreme respect.
With so many grand knights watching from the side, his so-called pride and self-respect as a mage had actually flown to god knows where with his dead companions.
It was just groveling, as long as he could live.
Thus, he planned to tell Kant everything he knew.
He was very cooperative.
Kant nodded in satisfaction.
He rode on his warhorse, the Sword of the King was sheathed again.
However, the aura of a superior and the power of victory made the mage break out in cold sweat. It was obvious that he was extremely afraid of Kant and the grand knights around him.
Mages were weaker than grand knights in close combat.
The battlefield was cleared.
The Swadian knights had already placed the corpses together.
Including the charred corpses in half, the thick smell of blood mixed with the charred smell filled the air. It was very unpleasant to smell.
