[Second release! Brothers, you truly are magnificent. Today we saw our very first helm lord, along with numerous book friends giving rewards. Old Moon thanks everyone for your support! Right now we are firmly occupying the top ten on both Fantasy rankings, though our position is still a bit unsteady and we haven't surged onto the homepage yet, nor do we have fifteen hundred recommendation votes. Everyone needs to keep bringing the heat! Begging for collections, recommendation votes, and member clicks! There are two more releases coming up today, and I'll definitely make sure you all get a thoroughly satisfying read!]
So tired!
At that moment, the maiden Shelley was brandishing a greatsword utterly disproportionate to her physique. Every single swing was made with all her might, so even in the bitter winter, beads of fine sweat gradually appeared on Shelley's fair face.
Once she grew tired, Shelley temporarily put down her sword, took the warm towel from the maid's hands, and gently wiped the sweat from her face before walking over to Merlin.
"You've been sitting without moving for so long. Could it be that all of you spellcasters are like this?"
The maiden Shelley opened a pair of wide eyes, looking curiously at Merlin. From the time she started practicing swordsmanship, at least three or four hours had passed, yet Merlin just sat in his chair with his eyes half-closed and unmoving, arousing Shelley's intense curiosity.
Merlin opened his eyes slightly. In truth, he was meditating, yet he still maintained a sense of everything happening outside.
He had already stayed within Count Sailin's castle for several days. Today was the "Day of Vengeance" spoken of in Merilon's letter—the very day when Count Sailin had once ordered the execution of all members of the Nelson Lineage.
Naturally, Merlin remained