The night deepened, and the silver moon hung high in the sky.
The battle at Wind Roar Fortress had already ended. The money-grubbing Tusk Mercenary Group ultimately gained neither wealth nor life.
After quietly transforming a few surviving troll samurais into blood slaves, Colin climbed to the top of the lookout tower.
In the howling cold wind, Charles was holding onto the railing, looking northwards.
"What are you looking at?" Colin stepped forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with Charles.
"Viscount Angler," Charles slightly bowed towards Colin, then smiled and said, "I was looking at the Troll Royal City."
"Just call me Colin," Colin playfully waved his hand, "But, can we really see the Troll Royal City from here?"
"Haha, of course not. But, for the past year, I've been looking north from here almost every day. Even if I can't see the Troll Royal City, I can feel its presence." Charles clenched his fists, his eyes blazing like roaring flames.
