It was already late at night, a time when Manan should have been asleep, but he wasn't the least bit sleepy.
He was wearing gray pajamas, with a nightcap still on his head. He hadn't even had time to change his clothes as he hurried through the hotel corridor.
The King's Secret Sword was defeated in the secret war seven years ago, but they still held some influence over this city. It hadn't completely slipped out of their control.
"Damn it, damn it..."
Manan muttered. He rarely felt such urgency, but a piece of emergency information he received a few minutes ago made it hard for him to remain calm.
He paused in front of a door, adjusted his breathing, and, after trying to stay calm, knocked on the door before entering.
The window was open, the night wind swept in, lifting the curtains and making the room a bit colder.
A man was sitting by the windowsill, dressed casually, everything seemed normal except for the long sword hanging from his waist.
