Ever since his arrival home, Regrit had been awfully silent. He did not speak a word nor bat an eye to anyone, to those who were mocking him, and to those who were trying to console him, both were treated the same as he strode to his room.
For an important member of the household, his room was very modest. Just a simple bed, and the rest was an empty area which gave him enough space to train and swing his sword.
He was only out for a few moments, yet his slow steps, clenched fists, and darkened eyes did not escape the gaze of those who saw him, and rumours began to spread. None were good for Regrit's already tarnished reputation, yet all that did not matter in Regrit's heart. Only one thing in the world kept his mind occupied, and that was the face of his dear mother.
— Chương tiếp theo sắp ra mắt — Viết đánh giá