"Get me a drink, Roche! My throat's on fire."
Veltrest shouted without turning his head.
A man in his twenties or thirties behind him naturally walked toward the tavern's bar.
Moments later, he placed two mugs of Codwin dark beer in front of Veltrest and Lann.
This man always had a clenched jaw, squinting eyes, and wore a torn, shabby cloth hat, looking quite unremarkable.
But what set him apart from others was that when he approached Lann, he showed no unusual emotions.
Whether it was due to his exceptional emotional control, or because he had a big heart that didn't care about anything.
Either way, it's a good trait.
Not everyone can stand before a creature that single-handedly slaughtered over two hundred elite warriors without trembling.
After delivering the drinks, Roche returned to his original position on his own.
"He's a great warrior, isn't he?"
Veltrest took a big gulp and lightly laughed at Lann, pointing at Roche behind him.
