Viscount Grant noticed the tear in Lamar's shoulder and could not help but frown, "They've wounded you? It seems I should not have let that old man leave so easily."
He truly regretted holding back now.
"My lord... I am of the Crimson People, a small injury like this means nothing." Failing to break free, Lamar sighed with a sense of helplessness, "It's busy at the moment, and haven't you been getting quite close with Klendell lately?"
"You care about that?" The Viscount said dismissively, "My dear, you know it's for your Crimson People… Besides, it's only because she looks so much like you—right?"
"She is my cousin, of course, we look alike." Lamar replied stiffly, but then he sighed, his tone softening a bit, "My lord, it was truly dangerous this time. If you hadn't prepared the medicine and crossbow cannons in advance, the Viscount's Mansion wouldn't have held out… Why did the natives attack here, after all?"
