"Sir Dolorem?"
Sylvester's jaw fell as the tall man was supposed to be resting on the bed in the Holy Land. It had been about two months, and that was not enough time to learn anything, let alone be on a battlefield.
"Lord Bard," Sir Dolorem's calm voice rang in Sylvester's ears.
"..."
"How? How are you here? And why are you here? Please move out of the way. That man can kil—"
It suddenly struck Sylvester. Sir Dolorem shouldn't be able to stand in front of Sir Maximus' attack for even a minute, let alone block it and appear so comfortable. Not to mention, Sir Dolorem didn't appear strained at all and instead faced him calmly.
