"This was an age full of danger, and an age full of opportunity." Donald Feilie, a tall, burly man with dark blood-red hair, gazed at the distant valley and spoke in a deep voice. "Before this age, men like me could only be ordered about by the lords on high. The lucky ones saved enough to buy land and retire; the unlucky ones died in a gutter one day. But this age has given us another choice."
Pan Long did not answer.
Unexpectedly, the big man was not only a formidable fighter but also had something of a poet about him. He often sighed over things for no apparent reason, and sometimes spoke in rhymes, almost as if reciting verse.
But he did not need anyone to agree with him. Even when someone tried, he usually paid them no mind.
He often seemed to live in a world of his own. In the world of Pan Long's previous life, he probably would have been sent to a psychiatric hospital for treatment.
Still, his strength was real.
Before setting out for the silver mine, Pan Long had sparred with him. In terms of martial skill, Donald could just about trade moves with Pan Long—far better than the weaklings who fell in a single blow.
And that was without awakening. If he awakened, his strength would surge for a short time. He still probably could not match Pan Long, but in this world, he was already a rare expert.
...At the very least, he was far stronger than Colin.
For the Feilie Lineage to have an expert like him yet still lack the confidence to explore the silver mine said plenty about the risks involved. That was why Weimar and Joseph had chosen to give up after discussing it.
Pan Long had