The people arranged by Old Qietli had already arrived, and the majority of these minor stewards responsible for distributing food were seeing Lind for the first time, his golden armor and towering stature casting an oppressive shadow in the sunlight, striking their hearts like a heavy hammer and bending their spines involuntarily.
He exuded the aura of someone from two Upper Ranks, a Great Knight, and noble bloodlines, along with the exquisite and excellent Gold Dragon-skin Plate Armor he wore—his mere presence was enough to set hearts drumming.
He was at a different level of life.
"Who will tell me voluntarily?" Lind spoke, and even the sound of blacksmithing nearby seemed to quiet down significantly.
The blacksmiths pricked up their ears.
This was a public inquiry, but to everyone present, it felt more like a trial.
