The girl before them wasn't some hardened adventurer or battle-scarred warrior. She looked no older than fifteen, perhaps younger. Her face still bore the roundness of childhood, and her petite frame made her appear more like a student preparing for a debutante ball than a battlefield.
It didn't matter if she held dozens of levels. Everyone in that hall knew one thing: humans aged normally until reaching their physical maturity. After that, their bodies slowed in aging, sustained by their mana and stats. This girl clearly hadn't reached that point, meaning…
She was a child.
And even a single one of the count's sons fighting her would be far too much.
Disapproval swept through the crowd.
Some shook their heads. Others whispered beneath their breath or exchanged glances with their spouses and allies. Nobles from older lines scoffed openly. A fight with a girl like that? Surely Vexmore wouldn't sink that low.
