"Believe me, if killing you could make Fred better, I'd kill you ten thousand times." Levi sat off to the side, eating roasted meat as he spoke calmly.
"Big talk from a despicable bastard who resorted to poison," the burly man cursed.
"I learned it from scum like you," Levi said.
"Heavenly Father above, I, Iron Mountain, have been an assassin for years and have never used poison. I may be an assassin, but I am also a knight. I aspire to fair combat, unlike you, ganging up on the few with the many," Iron Mountain cursed.
"If you're already an assassin, stop pretending to be some virtuous whore. What proper knight becomes an assassin? Judging by your Breathing Technique, it should be of excellent quality. Don't tell me you're some earl's bastard son?" Levi mocked.
What he did not know was that his casual remark had struck right at Iron Mountain's sore spot.
"You're the bastard! Your whole family is made of bastards! So what if I'm a bastard? I'm still the most outstanding genius of the Erian Family's younger generation, damn it! Pah!"
Levi's expression changed slightly.
The Erian Family was an earl's family whose territory lay in the northern Rust Lake Land. It was famous for its rich iron deposits, and its family crest was the "Iron Crocodile."
Legend had it that the Iron Crocodile was a terrifying ancient beast that had once lurked in Rust Lake, covered head to toe in scales like cast steel.
It was a powerful family, for its leader was the Iron Knight, one of the Northern Seven Horsemen. Like Levi's father, he was also a Great Knight.
No wonder Iron Mountain was so formidable. He looked no older than thirty, yet he was already at least a High-Rank Knight and had