Maxwell's eyes widened.
He understood.
Not just any great lance, but the second great lance, rumored to be above the 8th-core. Not just anyone could challenge him.
'Jarush killed his mother?'
But something was odd about this, though.
"Jarush lives in the Northern Continent. How did he kill your mother over he–"
Eithan's face lit up softly, and he smiled.
"I was not born here in Jalozi or Levaria. I was born in Nuncapor. After he murdered my mother, I couldn't even… I had to run away. But I don't want to run away anymore. I want to face him, I don't care if I die. I want to make him bleed for what he did to my mother. I'll get as strong as I can to do that."
Maxwell blinked, then breathed out.
"Eithan," he called. "You leave in a week, right?"
Eithan, slightly caught off guard, nodded.
