Ⅱ
Young Maha's trembling voice set Old Maha's heart trembling.
The old father truly despaired when he heard his son's words.
As a Contact for the Red Knights, Old Maha knew all too well how ruthless Hazlitt was. He was especially merciless toward anyone who dared impersonate him.
Once, a band of river pirates had posed as the Red Knights to plunder merchant ships.
Even though they had covered their tracks thoroughly enough, Hazlitt had still caught them out.
And in the end?
Hazlitt had skinned every last one of those twenty-odd river pirates before throwing them into boiling oil.
Old Maha had witnessed it himself.
He had watched those impostors turn to charcoal in mere moments.
He certainly did not want his son to suffer the same misfortune.
Even if Hazlitt had no time to deal with his son now, what about afterward?
River pirates were hardly forgiving men.
Taking revenge afterward was practically routine.
And they always paid it back twofold!
So, without a second thought, the farmer shouted-
"My lord, Your Excellency, Young Maha, he..."
He never finished.
In fact, his words came to an abrupt halt.
Because-
Hazlitt dropped to one knee and saluted the Blood Scion as a retainer, saying,
"My lord Knight, you've finally come!"
The sight left Old Maha frozen in place.
What happened?
What was going on?
This wasn't right, was it?
A string of questions surfaced in Old Maha's mind.
Old Maha had considered the possibility that Hazlitt would prove no match for the Blood Scion, flee, and then return to strike again.
He had also considered that the Blood Scion might kill Hazlitt outright, bringing everything to an end.
He had even imagined Hazlitt fleeing without fighting the Blood Scion at all. Yet of all the countless possibilities the farmer