On a rainy night, in the corridor.
The standing fire bowl, burning with fierce flames, and a cold wind projecting clawing shadows on the gray walls.
The sound of rain pattering.
The splattering blood quickly soaked into the puddles on the ground.
The head that rolled in the mud still wore a faint look of disbelief.
In the courtyard, the assassins who were originally attacking the guards were drawn by the sound in unison.
They looked at this scene, speaking rapidly, and their language seemed similar to Kurdish, likely Persian.
Losa could vaguely discern limited words like "powerful" "big figure" "soon".
Many corpses lay on the ground, all wearing the red and white cloaks of the Royal Knight Order's soldiers and attendants.
The sound of rain covered the noise of combat, nearby soldiers were either called away or assassinated, indicating the battle had persisted for a long time.
