Dream Race

"You really are a Freelancer," Alex muttered, seemingly to herself, yet her words were also directed at Castellan. With that, she conjured a fireball in her hand, as if about to strike him down. 

Just then, a dark figure appeared in front of Castellan.

"Must you do this?" 

The newcomer was a middle-aged man, seemingly in his thirties or forties. He shielded Castellan with his own body.

Unlike the Liberty Church members in Glory City, this man wore no mask. Judging by his power, he had already reached King level and was undoubtedly one of their bishops.

"You could have shown yourself earlier. Sneaking around like a rat," Alex said disdainfully, not taking the man seriously.

"Thank you for saving me," Castellan expressed his gratitude to the man, but received no response.

The middle-aged man was facing immense pressure from Alex. He was like a small boat adrift in a vast ocean, about to be swallowed whole.