Dan'erluo Port,
Once the representatives of the various noble families had all arrived, Beinar and Rolando rose as well, preparing to meet Ivor together.
"Ivor's putting on more and more airs."
Rolando spoke with some dissatisfaction as he adjusted his splendid clothes and the family crest on his chest.
Although the Bertich Kingdom had already been destroyed and become a thing of history, these nobles still clung tightly to their so-called glory.
Beinar, dressed in plain clothes, remained expressionless, merely sighing inwardly.
He was already considering whether he should give up on joining forces with these former colleagues.
With attitudes like this, even if they managed to cooperate this time, it would not last long.
Did they still think this was the old Bertich Kingdom?
However, Beinar had no intention of persuading them.
After all, even though he had once been a duke of the Bertich Kingdom, that was ultimately in the past.
What meaning would there be in using his former title to make demands of others?
Besides, the fewer competitors, the better!
They were all now wanderers who had lost their country, desperately hoping to regain a place to stand.
Led by a servant, the group passed through the corridors of Ivor's residence and stopped before the reception room.
When they pushed the door open and entered, dazzling sunlight slanted in through the glass windows on the right side of the room, dancing in the air like golden ribbons.
At the end of that beam of light, a handsome young man sat quietly behind the long table, his figure outlined with exceptional clarity by the sunlight.
He wore a white shirt embroidered with gold thread, its collar slightly open. His calm temperament carried a trace of casual ease, as though everything was already under his control. His hands