Sean's eyes widened in shock. He couldn't believe he was meeting the same people who had framed him, but the news provided valuable information about this group. These people were likely sent from the Harland Kingdom. That conclusion wasn't far-fetched; after all, who else would dare provoke them so openly other than King Lucas's men?
If this was true, then it all made sense.
"You're from Harland, right?" Sean growled, his voice low and trembling with conviction.
Clift only chuckled, tilting his head as if Sean had just asked him about the weather. He lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug.
"Who knows? Why don't you figure it out yourself?"
Sean's jaw tightened. Facing Clift stirred the same sensation he felt whenever he stood before Salvo. A suffocating pressure, as though invisible hands closed around his throat. It was the terrifying certainty of being controlled, trapped in a grip he could never break, no matter how hard he fought.
