Just having put down the clean soup bowl in his hand, Horn heard the sound of the tent flap being lifted.
Under the escort of seven or eight tall War Monks, several nobles and knights dressed only in their undergarments were brought into the tent.
"You are that Demon Horn?" The leading noble, though in a sorry state, still held his head high with arrogance, looking at Horn seated by the low table, "You're different from what I imagined."
"How do you think I should be?"
"Perhaps more robust or a bit taller," the noble appraised Horn up and down, "I never thought the one to defeat me would be a short peasant boy."
"Audacious!" The Close Guard Cultivator behind him immediately drew a saber from his waist. The cultivators on either side kicked the noble's knees, forcing him to kneel with a thud.
Horn, however, smiled and waved his hand to stop the monks: "What's your name?"
