Hughes frowned as he looked at the towering warhorse approaching.
He instinctively tightened his grip on the one-handed axe in his hand.
Watching the burly knight, he put on the full face helmet hanging beside him.
He took the lance hanging on the stirrup gun rack in his left hand and tucked it under his arm.
Hughes finally began to panic.
"Anthony, what are you doing? I was just speaking casually!"
The lance in Anthony's hand was already aimed at him.
His legs suddenly clamped the horse's belly, and the black warhorse beneath him neighed and started galloping toward Hughes.
The people originally following behind Hughes retreated repeatedly, fearing collateral damage.
Hughes was terrified and kept backing away, shouting, "Lord Anthony, I was wrong; I shouldn't have spoken nonsense in the team. Please forgive me?"
The warhorse did not stop, despite the rugged mountain road, it continued to stride briskly.
