"Cough, cough, cough!" A man stood shivering in the bitter wind, his face deathly pale. Gazing at the silvery-white landscape stretching between heaven and earth, he called out weakly, "Hurry up. I really can't stand this awful weather."
"What do you think His Highness summoned us for this time?" Ulysses's voice was rather soft, lacking its usual full-bodied strength.
"Something important," Osborne said coldly, sparing his words.
"Something important? Couldn't you say a little more, Osborne?" Displeasure showed on Ulysses's pale face. He clutched his coat tightly, wrapping himself in it to keep the cold wind out, and complained, "I'm this sick, and His Highness still summoned me. Of course it can't be anything trivial."
Osborne glanced at Ulysses a few times, then looked away indifferently. Without saying a word, he maintained his cold demeanor and continued walking.
"Hey, hey, hey! Say something, Osborne." Ulysses was not at all angered by Osborne's cold attitude. In the blink of an eye, so many years had passed since the Knights of the Round Table were founded. The two had known each other for years, and Ulysses understood Osborne's temperament very well. He was a man of unwavering resolve and had not originally been so taciturn. But after receiving Greg's guidance back then, he had abandoned everything else and devoted all his energy to training. Those long years of cultivation had forcibly worn his personality down into its present coldness.
Personality was not only innate; it could also be shaped over time. Osborne was just such a case. For the sake of training, he cut back on other activities. For the sake of training, he spent less time chatting with friends. For the sake of training, he cut back.
At first, it had not seemed like much, but after so many years, it