A few hours ago, in the main hall of the Clive Family's grand mansion, a young boy was kneeling on the floor before a middle-aged man with a stocky build and a stern bearing.
Another tall and brawny youngster around twenty years old stood on the side with a frown on his face.
The young man kneeling on the floor was none other than Cedric Clive, and half of his face was so swollen that even his own mother couldn't recognize him for a few moments right after he came back home.
Cedric's countenance was pale, and his chin was trembling, feeling the oppressive pressure from his father, Herwin Clive, the Senior Supreme General of the Xeton Empire.
"Cedric Clive, do you understand how much of a disgrace you are to this family?" Herwin Clive said in a sardonic tone.
