The bloody stench of the Eternal Battlefield had not yet dissipated.
The struggle for power followed like a shadow.
The glory of the Great Expedition was like a dream. Any attempt to address real-world problems only served to burst that bubble, and the conversation turned grim.
Reinhardt raised a hand, signaling for Haven Meis and Fedor's Personal Guards to leave the study.
He had only just made the request, yet the three Personal Guards of the Red Flame Son's leader unconsciously tightened their grips on their Dragon-Hunting Spears, bracing as if for a formidable foe.
Fedor's brows were tightly knitted. After a long silence, he spoke. "All of you, get out."
'He refused to believe that an Empire's Chosen Knight, blessed by the Emperor himself and the one who led them out of the Eternal Battlefield, would be so despicable as to kill an ally once their purpose was served. That he would kill him, right here.'
