Chapter 22
When their eyes met, both Clayton and Arthur felt a tremor deep within their souls—like something sharp had pierced straight into the core of their beings.
Both men, survivors of countless bloody battles, immediately recognized that neither was someone to be taken lightly.
Even Arthur—two whole tiers above Clayton, a significant gap in this world—sensed a genuine threat, something he rarely experienced. Normally, Arthur could take on two or three opponents of his own level with ease.
The eye contact lasted only a brief moment, but it was heavy with unspoken meaning. Those around them barely noticed what had just happened.
Meanwhile, Bravus kept rambling, mocking Clayton from every possible angle. But Clayton couldn't be bothered to listen. Without a word, he turned and walked away.
Seeing this, Bravus grew even bolder, convinced that Clayton was intimidated by his taunts.
"Look at that coward! No wonder he didn't want to join the hunt. He's probably scared of blood and battle! A delicate flower in a greenhouse! He doesn't know the first thing about the romance of swords and magic!"
Equus could only shake his head in frustration. Bravus was parroting the same insult he himself had once hurled at Clayton—and hearing it again made his skin crawl. He just hoped Clayton wouldn't hold a grudge. But now, with Bravus the idiot stirring the pot, Equus felt an overwhelming urge to tear his mouth apart.
Arthur, on the other hand, watched with a curious smile. His interest in Clayton had only deepened.