"You're going to attempt to enter A rank?" The old devil asked, his voice low and steady, yet unable to completely mask the surprise that flickered across his aged features. One brow arched slowly as he looked over at Guilliman, studying him with a depth that went beyond mere curiosity.
For a brief moment, silence lingered between them, heavy and reflective.
The old devil could still remember the first day he had met the boy. Back then, Guilliman had been nothing more than a scrawny child with a faint, unstable blue aura that barely clung to his body like a dying flame. Weak, unrefined, and uncertain. A boy who would have been swallowed whole by the world if left alone.
And now…
Now that same boy stood before him, calm and resolute, speaking of stepping into A rank as though it were a natural progression.
It was absurd.
No, more than absurd, it was overwhelming.
