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“That coward, that dirty bastard, curse him, that son of a bitch!”

The Black Blade lieutenant spat blood as he cursed Marcus.

Of course, there was some misunderstanding. This ordeal had begun with Shinar, and Enkrid had swiftly resolved it.

Still, the more they dug, the clearer it became that the Border Guard regulars were involved.

So, who gave the order? Who was behind all of this? One name constantly surfaced.

Marcus.

A nobleman, tied to the royal court, rumored to covet the Grand Duke’s position in the North.

“That damn bastard!”

No matter how many times he muttered it internally or shouted it aloud, his anger wouldn’t subside.

Frustration and resentment consumed him to the point of madness.

He wanted to throw himself on the ground, scream, and flail. That’s how enraged he was.

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