With some hesitation, Mandhela wondered if she should just ask?
But before Mandhela could speak up, she was dragged out of the alley by Tullas. With people coming and going, Mandhela felt the gaze of numerous onlookers, and her curiosity was swiftly replaced by discomfort.
Mandhela began to struggle again, growling with a guttural tone, “Let me go!”
But Tullas didn’t care about the gazes of others, walking boldly along the road, still firmly gripping Mandhela’s wrist.
They had not walked far when Tullas seemed to spot something and suddenly started running.
Mandhela was still in his grasp, and to avoid falling, she had no choice but to run along with Tullas. As they ran, Mandhela couldn’t help but curse aloud.
However, Tullas turned a deaf ear and continued chasing after the figure ahead.
Not until Mandhela felt a mess inside did Tullas finally stop.
Gasping for breath, Mandhela looked up angrily, only to see that a tall, striking man had appeared before Tullas. This man was extremely handsome and masculine, decked in light armor with a long sword at his waist, appearing majestic and imposing.
The newcomer had an expressionless face, but his eyes held a sense of urgency, as if he had something pressing to attend to.
“Tullas, what’s the matter?”
“I heard you were getting ready for your second match; I came to help you train,” Tullas, with a buddy-buddy grip on the other man’s shoulder, complained as if aggrieved, “Why do you keep going to Sabel, when you used to come to me?”
“Every time I come, you’re never here, and I can only go to Sir Sabel… We’ll talk about training later. I have something to do with Frode now,” he said, then moved past Tullas towards a distant tower.
Tullas hurried to catch up, and just as Mandhela took a breath of relief, she was dragged away again.
“I also have something to do with Frode,” said Tullas before following alongside, “You look in such a hurry, what do you need Frode for?”
Upon questioning, Lyon’s expression twisted slightly and he sighed, “Nothing much, just wanted to inquire about Angel.”
“What about him?” Tullas asked curiously.
Lyon shook his head without replying, “Just heard a rumor, I wanted to check with Frode about it.”
Tullas wanted to probe further, but Lyon became silent, instead turning his gaze towards Mandhela, who was being dragged by Tullas, “Who is she?”
Tullas glanced back at Mandhela, who had stopped struggling and was silently following along. However, on closer observation, one could see Mandhela’s ears twitching slightly.
“A newcomer, still unaware of how things work here. I’m taking her to get registered and incidentally to go see Frode for a bit of a grilling!” Tullas’s voice boomed with feigned boldness towards the end.
Lyon clearly didn’t believe him, “I even heard that you damaged the statue at the memorial square yesterday, and it would be good if Frode doesn’t charge you for that.”
“That was… an accident,” Tullas’s voice suddenly softened, “By the way, who told you? It wasn’t that Sabel who loves to gossip behind backs, was it?”
Lyon shook his head, “Sir Sabel never speaks ill of others.”
Tullas looked dejected, “Are you saying that I speak ill of others?”
Lyon shook his head, showing no interest in dwelling on that topic, then mentioned, “Speaking of which, I just heard a rumor that there was a loud noise at the Marine Theater, and a wall seems to have collapsed… Couldn’t be…”
Tullas coughed, “Unrelated to me.”
Lyon read Tullas’s expression and seemed to understand something.