Chapter 17: The Golden Swordsman
"The Patriarch is not available."
A rough-looking young man– probably in his 20s says to me. His hollow black eyes stare down at me with disdain, and his neat blue hair is the only striking feature of his.
Why’s he glaring at me like we’re enemies?
"You’ll have to come back later."
My brows furrow, and my eyes squint into a fierce glare that locks with his black eyes.
"And where did he go?"
My voice– I make it sound as cold as possible, even though it still carries a youthful flair. I can no longer standby and continue being intimidated by people no older than me.. mentally.
He instinctively raises his eyebrows as he hears my question.
"Did you not hear me?"
I press, my voice still layered with subtle authority.
His eyes narrow, "He’s.. he’s on a mission."