"Oh, it seems that your rival is acting just as wildly as usual."
An old man chuckled after hearing the news. He leaned back in his chair, taking a swig of alcohol and seemingly uncaring about Amery's feelings on the topic. He was quite sloppy for a man of his stature, but he didn't seem to care about that either.
"Rival?" Amery said lightly.
The old man's gaze flashed with a hint of coldness that was completely different from his usual demeanor.
"What did I say about excuses?"
The coldness in the man's words seemed to cause the temperature to drop by several degree. However, Amery was unmoved. He continued to squeeze and open his hand, wanting to make sure that everything was perfect. He didn't plan on picking up a sword with this hand again until it was absolutely health. To a swordsman, the hands were far too important. He would rather only use a single hand until these lingering issues were gone than to risk aggravating it again.
