The one who had come to the residence was none other than Mario, the Atrox who had once served as Cain's guide. It was clear that the man had not had an easy time during these past few months, judging by the severe wounds covering his body. Deep gashes and half-healed scars marred his flesh, his clothing torn and stained by dried blood. He looked like he had survived countless battles or fled from relentless pursuers. Yet here he stood at the gates of an Outer Elder's residence, his eyes burning with a desperate determination.
The head butler of the residence could not help but frown as he heard Cain's command, allowing this Dark Race cultivator inside. But there was no way he would dare disobey a direct order from the Outer Elder he served. So, he merely lowered his hand, which he had raised in protest, and stepped aside. Displeasure remained etched on his face, but he knew his place.
