Illya let go of her hug, staring at Fathir with wide eyes. "Y-you're... Fathir? That Fathir?"
"Yes," Fathir replied flatly.
He seems to be quite famous. Fyar turned to Illya. "Who is he, Illya?"
"The strongest adventurer, and also the strongest human, Fyar," Illya answered as she slowly got to her feet.
"I see." Fyar stood up as well and patted the dust from his clothes.
"By the way, I found your horse-drawn carriage," Fathir said, crossing his arms. "My shadow army is driving it here now. Don't worry, the driver is fine."
"Thank goodness, thank goodness." Illya touched her chest, feeling an immense sense of relief. She turned to Fathir and smiled sincerely. "Thank you! Truly, thank you!"
"It's not free," Fathir emphasized again.
"What do you want?" Fyar asked, one of his eyebrows raised.
Inside the Dungeon
Rasie and Zaefal hung helplessly in the air, their bodies impaled by two solid black shadow blades controlled by a mysterious man.
Cough! Cough!
