Count Martin, who had traveled all the way from Klin Island, sat proudly in the noble stand, gulping strong liquor while loudly praising Roger:
"I told you! Roger is the son of the God of War a hero worthy of epic ballads! And that little guy isn't bad either. This kind of raw, fist-to-flesh match is truly thrilling! I, Martin, didn't come here in vain! If I were thirty years younger, I'd jump down and fight them myself!"
"Hey, old Martin, I heard that kid killed the Ghost Moth Girl on your Klin Island. Is that true?" a curious noble beside him asked.
"Of course it's true!" Martin boasted, thumping his chest. "I saw it with my own eyes one strike and he split that freak in half! Just one swing of his sword!"
Of course, in reality, he had only heard the report from his guards while hiding safely inside his count's manor.
**
