As Enkrid and his two companions entered, the entrance to the banquet hall seemed to narrow, and for a moment, the room felt packed. Some of the nobles saw a halo behind them, while others sensed an ominous presence. If the one standing there set his mind to it, wouldn’t killing everyone in this room be over in an instant?
Hadn’t one of them even been called a noble-hunter? Of course, the unease only gripped a very small few. Most were too busy staring in astonishment and awe.
Would it be an exaggeration to say strength radiated from each step they took? No, it wouldn’t. For a single step from them could change so much. Perhaps this was the very aura of a hero who had shifted the continent’s tides.
In truth, it was nothing like that—they were just walking—but since everyone already knew they were great, and their appearances backed it up, they seemed even greater. Enkrid, Rem, and Audin had simply walked in like ordinary men.
‘So he’s come.’
One noble, watching Enkrid enter, clenched his fist. This might be the moment for a certain resolve. He was completely bald, with lean, wiry muscles, skin burned dark by the sun, and blackened tips of his fingernails.