Fatigue?
'Oh?'
Leonel looked at Gregwyn, his thoughts flickering. He took note of this, but when he looked at the veins of red, he vaguely remembered something else.
'That's odd, how could those two things be related?'
He slotted these things into the back of his mind as he did with everything. In this world, it didn't seem that there was such a thing as useless information. He had lost count of the number of times he had connected seemingly unrelated matters.
"Let's begin." Leonel's voice boomed.
He noticed that Eamon was practically shaking, but he could only smile bitterly.
Gregwyn's maleficent aura was, indeed, probably the worst sort of outcome for Eamon. He was already nervous, facing off against a person with such a great amount of hatred and animosity was, well…
Leonel put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, victory is certain. Just do your best, I'm not asking for anything more."
Eamon nodded shakily.