High Lord Rashal smiled.
He only tried to poke a bit, and the old man's fake persona crumbled almost instantly.
For coming here out of nowhere—the only reason he would do something like this was to see how High Lord Rashal was doing and also to boast of his victory. It was a big victory for him—and it would be a waste not to rub it in High Lord Rashal's face.
Seamlessly, High Lord Rashal waved his hand, teleporting them to another dimension.
Not because he wanted to do something, but because he wanted to avoid prying eyes.
He wanted to make this moment pure with no pretentious fakeness.
"Nobody is watching. Nothing is recording." High Lord Rashal reclined on his chair. "What do you say if we drop the act right now—and stay true to what we're feeling? Isn't it tiring to constantly speak in a passive-aggressive manner? It's not like I'm a clueless civilian."
"Your origin is showing. You were never meant to be among us."
