It seemed Clayton's hopes were destined to be crushed. The mysterious figure continued sprinting toward him at an incredible speed, despite clearly being injured.
Clayton glanced over his shoulder repeatedly, cursing under his breath. Eventually, the figure caught up and tackled him with force.
Clayton felt like his body was locked in place by an invisible grip. He struggled instinctively, desperate to break free, but couldn't move. The pressure on his chest alone told him just how physically powerful this person was—a strong knight.
Realizing resistance was futile, Clayton stopped struggling. He forced himself to calm down, trying to appear resigned. The moment the mysterious figure sensed Clayton had ceased resisting, he gave a curt nod.
"Good. You know your place. I'm not in the mood to stir up trouble, so I hope you know what's best for you," he said sharply.
