On his face, there was a distinct trace of worry.
Once war is waged, casualties are inevitable!
...
Alba Town shrouded in the night.
On the walls, oil lamps burn brightly, illuminating the Connelly Manor residence.
As the oil lamps burn, wisps of black smoke rise and stain the walls, already blackened by smoke, even darker.
The entire hall on the first floor is filled with a faint smell of burnt feathers.
At the main seat of the several-meter-long dining table, the Manor Lord Zock Connally sits firmly.
At this moment, his cheeks are puffed, as he chews large bites of the roast beef in his mouth.
Perhaps it's because he stuffed too much beef into his mouth.
Causing Zock to have crimson juice trickling out of his mouth with each chew.
The maid standing beside him sees this.
She hurriedly picks up the silk handkerchief in her hand, carefully wiping the juice from his mouth corners.
During the wiping, Zock's gaze unconsciously falls upon the young maid's front.
