Kaelin stared at the two legion stations, a long-lost glint appeared in his eyes.
Raymont noticed this slight change and timely offered his stake: "In the private treasury of the Raymont family, there are enough high-quality weapons to re-equip three legions, as well as two years' worth of food reserves. I am willing to send them to the Thirty-First and Eleventh Legions."
"The premise is they must know who is feeding them." Kaelin stared at the frontier map, his chest feeling as if something was being stretched open.
The dull angry fire, buried deep in his heart due to the bitterness and humiliation from his severed arm, finally found an outlet to burn.
The storm knocked on the window frame, but his breathing grew more rapid.
"Duke..." Kaelin's voice was somewhat hoarse, "You are willing to take this risk for me... I..."
Before he finished speaking, his eyes were already heating up.
In this Imperial Capital, everyone was leaving him.
