"Viscount Bernard, I need the blood of the Golden Race. Please, you must help me,"
Grot knelt on one knee before Viscount Bernard, this Northern Warrior who dared to charge into tenfold and hundredfold enemies was now utterly humble.
For the future of the North, the warrior who would never bend even when pierced by a heavy sword, lowered his proud head time and time again.
Viscount Bernard gave his Guard Commander a deep look and shook his head.
"Grot, you should know what kind of existence the Golden Race is. If you could have the ability to hunt an Extraordinary Level giant dragon, I might be able to tell you about a Fire Element Giant Dragon.
But now, you cannot even defeat me...
I can't help you."
Grot opened his mouth as if to say something, but then he sighed in despair.
An Extraordinary Level giant dragon...
It wasn't that he lacked the courage to face a giant dragon, but he didn't have the strength to defeat one.
