Eleanor, hovering with the light pillar like a goddess, suddenly opened her eyes and instantly locked on Ace, who, this time, was disguised as an ordinary-looking man in his late twenties.
"My Lady, this is the boy I told you about. He's very talented in forging but seems to be met with some trouble, so he seeks asylum here. I hope my lady can give him a chance." The Guardian Spirit, who seemed to be growing corporeal by every passing moment, spoke in a respectful tone.
Eleanor didn't even look at the Guardian Spirit, who was nothing but a dead person's lingering sentience. She only looked at Ace, and at this moment, she seemed to have pulled a faint smile behind her veil: "Alright, little spirit, you can go in peace now. I'll make sure your legacy will have a place in a King Sect's library."
