"The target here is Demon Sword 'Slaifdein', so Jamie's gonna have to get a teeny bit serious."
"Would you be accompanying him, or would Lord Westley handle it alone?"
The Elf, Ghyrre, posed this question to Miranda and hearing the name 'Westley', the kneeling Race Lords reacted with shock.
Now it made much more sense why their masters were being so reverent; the silver-haired man was a Westley!
No one in the Interstellar Stage didn't know the name 'Westley'.
If you said that name, then you were referring to the Apex World Estea's Westley Werewolf Clan!
Then again, they didn't know that this man wasn't just any Westley, but one of the Clan's current Ancestors.
Miranda skipped her way to where Jamie stood at the top of the Observation Deck and wrapped her arms around his waist, placing her chin on his shoulder as she spoke.
"Are you still pissed?"
"No. And come down already."
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer me up!