"Don't act cocky, boy."
Andraver spoke calmly from where he sat beside the campfire.
The flames between them continued to crackle, sending small sparks into the air before they faded beneath the golden light coming from the stones embedded in the cave ceiling. Outside, the blizzard had not weakened in the slightest. Wind rushed past the cave entrance in long waves, carrying snow through the forest and covering whatever tracks Maxwell had left behind earlier.
Maxwell still held the card his Master had given him.
His earlier confidence in himself hadn't left his face.
Andraver noticed that immediately.
"There are always people better than other people who are already strong. Look at me..."
He lifted one hand, then casually pointed toward himself.
"At one point, I was regarded as the strongest in Britannia, and I ended up getting my ass beaten by a small girl from The Servient Union..."
Maxwell's expression changed.
Andraver paused.
His brows slowly drew together.
