At this moment, the crowd saw the valiant young lord, whose presence was awe-inspiring, each gesture filled with heavenly authority, sending shivers through their hearts, approaching them.
A cold voice rang out.
"Who among you is the leader?"
The air suddenly became still, and over a hundred humans instinctively looked toward the center.
After a moment, the crowd parted, revealing a middle-aged man in his forties, dressed in black clothes and pants.
His face was covered in stubble, eyes showing a weathered look, and the calluses on his hands were thick like tree bark.
The man bowed directly, his hand to his chest, speaking with a humble tone.
"O'Connor Roger, greets you, honorable lord."
The voice carried a slight hoarseness and depth, giving a sense of stability and reliability.
Lear nodded slightly.
"Where do you come from? What brings you here?"
The man took a deep breath and replied solemnly.
