He realized that he might have made a fatal mistake by severely underestimating that Molten Iron Tribe, especially that Red Iron Dragon.
Those dragons and their tribe cannot be judged by common sense at all!
At that moment.
A communication tool placed on his luxurious rosewood desk, a crystal-clear crystal ball, suddenly lit up with a soft glow.
The name displayed on it was none other than—Flower Knight Shire Haines.
"Shire?!"
Count Mills' heart jolted violently.
"Has he… has he succeeded in contacting me out of a predicament, or…"
He took several deep breaths of the expensive incense-scented air that couldn't calm him, forcibly suppressing the turmoil in his mind, and placed his fingers lightly on the communication tool.
"Hello, Count Mills."
A deep and resonant voice, like rolling thunder with an inhuman texture, emanated from the crystal ball, filling the entire luxurious and serene study.
This voice was not one that a human knight could produce.
