Farad noticed the state of his mind. “You do not need to get up and bow at this state soldier.”
His guard pulled a tool for him to sit. Farad thanked him and settled on the wooden instrument.
“It seems like I came at a bad time.” He pointed to the paper in the corner.
Farad knew how his third brother was. He expected his brother to dismiss the guard. His face said everything when the fight occurred. Rather Farad was scared that Yavaz won. The more time went away. He saw Yavaz climbing back up to fight the mercenary guard, who was clearly looking stronger in technique than him.