Lear gazed at the Beastman before him, lost in subtle thoughts.
He hadn't expected to encounter a Beastman in the arena.
In the Wilderness, Beastmen roamed frequently, occupying considerable territory, but the Mire Swamp wasn't within that range.
Thus, encounters with Beastmen were less common in everyday life.
However, Lorand City had faced the threat of Beastmen two to three hundred years ago.
The reputation of Beastmen among the residents was notoriously fierce.
His gaze moved down, stopping at the Silver Mask in the Beastman's hand.
Lear felt an absurdity in his heart... Could it be that these Beastmen initiated the combat voluntarily?
If so... what is their purpose?!
At that moment, the leading Beastman tightened his grip on his curved War Saber, his tone tinged with mockery.
"A human leading a group of Demons and undead as subordinates, how laughable."
He looked up at the sky, his voice suddenly booming.
