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Chapter 478 : The Wind

In a rowdy tavern, there stood a bard happily singing and chugging ale from time to time. He wore a green and violent costume and looked out of place, nonetheless, everyone in this place appreciated his famous poems and engaging melodious voice.

"Sing with me, my dear invitee!

The story of a conflicted man,

Never honest, and always bland

Protecting love, never grand

Uncaring of the moving sand

Not bothering with the unseen hand."

A long while later, the bard left the tavern, humming and caressing his precious lute. The poet walked for a dozen meters before his path was blocked by someone wearing a jet black armor, a pale-faced youth, to be more precise.

"Ah! If it isn't grumpy boy!"

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