Ambrose momentarily felt her head go blank. Thomas' figure was completely different from what she had imagined before. The man didn't look like someone who had been cursed by a White Wizard, he was very healthy and also… terrible.
"Sister ... What should we do?"
A Witch landed beside Ambrose, her face deathly pale.
The situation suddenly became unpredictable. Ambrose pursed her lips tightly. Her hand gripped the broom tightly. Cold sweat dripped down her back.
What should they do?
Ambrose admits she is too carried away by lust to obtain ten chests of gold for the benefit of her race.
The reputation of her race was currently at stake. As a Witch, her race, of course, automatically became a loyal follower of the White Wizard.
"No need to worry. We have a large number, while he is alone." Ambrose took out his wand and held it up.
