Upon hearing Roger's words, the face of the elder in the purple robe darkened with a trace of displeasure.
"Swearing on the honor of the entire race, within the range of our capabilities, your requests will be fulfilled."
"Is this satisfactory?"
"Now you can stop, or let us intervene directly!" In his final sentence, a hint of threat was already evident.
The Twelve Dragon Envoys each have powerful individual strength, backed by a mighty race, not to mention the entire force of the Dragon Court supporting them.
Naturally, they are treated with great respect, but Roger, standing here, is different; this is the Ancestral Land of the Silver Dragon Clan, the core of their power, filled with confidence.
"Very well."
Roger initially nodded but quickly changed his expression slightly.
"Your proposal seems reasonable, but he struck first. If we just let it go..."
As Roger spoke, he mysteriously appeared beside Ares, with the longsword held high in his hand.
"What are you doing?!"
