"Cedric, why are you still standing there—"
The scream abruptly stopped as the person in white armor arrived.
Cedric was there, the true strongest warrior of the empire stood before them.
Fourth rank, or perhaps he had already stepped into the realm of the Saint?
This time, Cedric's eyes were solemn, no longer the gaze one would give a small stone by the roadside.
Cedric never expected that Solan could reach this point.
In front of the Imperial Army, the Golden Fleet, and everyone, he swung that sword.
Warrior.
For the first time, Cedric regarded this title seriously, and at the same time, the blade he swung was aimed directly at Solan's neck.
In this split second, the Eldest Prince's expression and emotions fluctuated several times. For a moment, he truly felt like he was doomed, but Cedric had come before him.
How could a pawn's sword be faster than the commander of the Imperial Army?
