Rumble!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A few minutes later, Karls was lying on the ground, breathing heavily.
Malcolm was not injured at all, if you ignored the bruising around his eyes and the shoe print on his face.
"Good! Amazing!"
"Hahahaha, Your Majesty is still powerful!"
"Tall! Mighty!"
"Karls, you lost again!"
The drunken Red Dwarves ministers kept shouting.
Malcolm shook his head hard, becoming a little more clear-headed.
He looked at Karls, who was lying on the ground and breathing heavily, then walked over without hesitation.
Malcolm bent down and held out his arm.
Karls took a deep breath, slowly reached out as well, and grabbed Malcolm's hand.
Malcolm pulled him to his feet.
The two Red Dwarves held each other's hands. With a slight push, their shoulders struck each other's chests.
"I'm sorry. Back then, I really couldn't control myself, and I didn't know your father had already been injured before his duel with me," Malcolm said in a low voice.
Karls said nothing.
