Baron Dylan’s Cold Smile

In the central posthouse.

Rolf was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bench. He had a silver toothpick in the corner of his mouth, and his expression was arrogant.

Three Royal Knights in plate armor stood behind the bench. The full plate armor did not allow one to see their faces, but the eyes in the holes were indifferent as if they were looking at a dead person.

These were the absolute elites, the elites of the elites!

In front of them.

Baron Dylan sat quietly.

The 30 knights behind him, who were wearing double-mail armor, did not dare to look at the Royal Knights. They pretended to be calm as they looked to the side, but their hearts were beating fast.

Obviously, they understood that the three knights in front of them were wearing luxurious armors that looked like works of art.

They were grand knights!

Knights who possessed extraordinary powers!