Novarian stood imposingly in the middle of the hall, his face wearing an indifferent expression. However, when he looked into Arthur's sharp and unreadable eyes, he felt a wave of discomfort. Unconsciously, his posture became more humble as he thought:
'This person? I still can't grasp his intentions or the nature of his personality. Or rather, I've started doubting his motives. Why do I feel like he knows me?'
He sighed deeply:
'That's impossible. He's the son of a powerful and wealthy duke, and I'm just a villager who recently left his home. How could he know me? Also, after asking the common folk about him, they reacted with disgust, calling him all kinds of vile names and describing the horrific acts he committed. But why do I see the opposite of what they say? He's kind and cares about his people. All the soldiers deeply respect him and don't dare speak ill of him.'
