The burly man appeared like a loyal dog filled with worry: "Although Earth is a low-level civilization, the fact that it could sign a peace treaty with the Eternal Civilization speaks volumes."
"At the very least, the risk indeed exists."
"People like me, if we die, we can just be cloned again as replacements to continue protecting you."
"But..."
"If you were harmed..."
The Third Prince looked much like the burly man, only slimmer, around six feet four inches tall, with handsome features, delicate facial lines, complemented by snow-like skin and deep, dark eyes devoid of pupils, exuding a wicked charisma.
"Afraid of what?"
Holding a goblet in his hand, he swirled the crimson, blood-like liquid inside and said leisurely in English: "It's just an unlucky low-level civilization. When technology levels are extremely low, interstellar coordinates become directly exposed."
"I'm aware of the peace treaty between the Eternal Civilization and Earth."
"No need to worry."
