Damon was already in a bad mood… these people could have just left him to wallow in his melancholy and self-pity.
But no — fate, or rather someone, had made a choice to mess with him.
He would have come out to give them a piece of his mind, but these guys had some knights in the fourth class.
It wasn't that he didn't dare — he just wasn't in the mood for that kind of fight.
They weren't that powerful; they were only two ranks higher than him and could shatter mountains and level cities. It was nothing to him.
The lower-ranked knights in the third class searched the area, not finding anything… except a strange pair in a tree watching them with bored expressions.
Naturally, it was the raven and the squirrel.
Damon almost cursed his two wretched pets for how casual they were taking things.
The knights didn't find anything, so they mounted their steeds — dragon horses by the looks of them — and chased after the convoy.
After a few minutes, Damon emerged from the shadows.
