Never had the Radcliffe family expected their son-in-law, a loser in their eyes, to be the hidden Dragon Lord who had lived for myriads of years...
"How is that possible?" Hearing the news, the Saint Heir suddenly stopped in his tracks.
He turned around and grabbed the man in the vest by the collar, "Didn't we just send our people out?"
At the banquet, the Saint Heir had announced in front of everyone his intentions to rescue Sheridan Isolde.
And it had been only a matter of minutes since his staff had gone to follow through with this task.
Even accounting for personnel movements and travel preparations, his people could have at most just stepped out of this villa.
"Yes... Our people had just gone out and were ambushed right at the villa's entrance, their bodies not even a hundred meters from the gate..." The man in the vest turned pale, his words faltering and the muscles at the corners of his mouth twitching uncontrollably.
He had followed Skyfire for many years, completing countless missions, but none had ever been as shocking as today.
Deaths were common, how could a combat unit not suffer casualties?