Thomas silently observed the silver-haired boy before him.
He had received a message while in his private tent, a text from an unknown number instructing him to meet here, under Azriel's orders.
Normally, he would have been skeptical, but the nod from Azriel made him comply.
'Cadet Nol... A silver-haired boy was reported staying in the Crimson Mansion these past few months...'
As the right hand of the Frost King, it was his duty to gather as much information as possible, whether it came from allies or enemies.
But here was the problem—he didn't get much about this boy.
Nol hadn't stood out in the rankings for the first year, and yet...
'Intermediate rank...'
Thomas mused, though he knew it was a facade.
This boy wasn't ordinary.
He was strong, too strong for his age.
Nol stood there silently, a smile playing on his lips, as Thomas asked.
"Who exactly are you?"