Garr stood frozen, struggling to believe what had just transpired.
He had never imagined being dismissed in such a condescending manner, with the words, "You may leave," spoken as if his life was worth nothing.
Even as Rose said it, her greatsword hadn't fully withdrawn from his neck, leaving him with an overwhelming sense of humiliation.
Who was he?
He was the Saint of Sanctuary of Extension!
Yet today, someone had placed a blade to his throat and spared him with an air of disdain.
The shame burned within him.
"You're not leaving? Do you want to die after all?" Rose said coldly, her sword once again pressing against Garr's neck.
She noticed the resentment and fury etched across his face. If she let him go now, it felt like sparing an enemy who wouldn't think twice about retaliating.
The sharp edge of her sword pricked his neck, drawing a trickle of blood.