"HALT!"
Each one of the auras were blazing, several guards sent piercing gazes toward the air. Though they too wore golden armor, it was nothing like the superfluous garbage the guard of the Force Crafting Guild wore. Each one had an undeniable momentum that almost threatened to peel Leonel's skin back.
However, as though he hadn't heard a single word, Leonel descended from the skies, landing at the very top of the ancient tree structure that was the Imperial Capital.
Leonel strode forward, his pale violet hair fluttering and his hands in his pockets. A light smile hung from his face.
"You're not going to attack me, are you?"
"Prince Leonel! Flying in the Imperial Capital is an offense even for you."
A hardnosed man stood forward, his demeanor unchanged in the face of Leonel's smile.
"Oh? And why is that?"
Leonel's steps paused.
