Just griddling corn cakes for these two gluttons was enough to leave the little aproned girl drenched in sweat. But she didn't dare stop, terrified that any delay in supply would displease her two high-status guests.
The little old man, stooped as he kneaded the corn dough, secretly sized up the pair. There wasn't much to say about the Beastman—he was most likely a slave, though an absurdly burly one. His fists alone were as large as the old man's head.
The one who truly warranted attention was the young man. Not even the Knights of Kalia were that handsome. The Leather Armor he wore was clearly of high quality, and the Sword at his waist was so exquisite one hardly dared to look at it for long. Even a fool could tell he was the real VIP.
Logically, he shouldn't have set up his stall. A battle had just broken out here yesterday, and it was said that many people had died.
