Just as Mandela was at a loss for what to do, a gust of wind came from above.
Mandela looked up in confusion, only to see a black shadow appear in the sky. The black shadow flew from the top of one building to the top of another, looking very dashing. If the shadow had noticed that there was a wall in front of him, it would have been even more dashing.
Unfortunately, the shadow seemed to be looking in a certain direction and did not notice the wall in front of him.
By the time the shadow realized that something was wrong, it was already too late.
There was an intense collision sound, and the black shadow fell from the sky along with countless pieces of bricks, smashing heavily into the ground.
The place where he landed was coincidentally at the corner of the alley, not far from Mandela.
Mandela hesitated for a moment and walked to the corner, wanting to see what happened to the person who fell from the sky.
But when she poked her head out to take a look, she saw that the shadow was standing steadily as if nothing had happened. Instead, there was a large hole in the ground.
The black shadow had his back to Manderhaera and was muttering to himself, "Bumping into a wall again … This is not my style at all … If Freud knows about this, he'll definitely nag at me again. Hmm … I don't think anyone noticed, right? Probably? "
As he muttered, he seemed to have sensed something and suddenly turned around, his eyes meeting with Mandela's.
"There really is someone in this alley!"
Mandela looked at the person in front of her. He was tall and muscular, wearing a horned helmet that covered most of his face. He wore an open leather jacket that revealed his strong abs. There was a faint totem pattern on his body, giving him the air of a primitive race.
The most eye-catching thing about this man was not the horned helmet, but his left foot. It was empty, replaced by a sharp scythe.
Mandela could feel a sense of invasion just by looking at his appearance.
She unconsciously raised her vigilance to the highest level.
"Who are you? I don't think I've seen you before." After Torras finished speaking, he thought to himself that there were many people he had never seen before, and even if he did, he would have forgotten them. This was just a casual remark from his mouth.
Mandela took a few steps back, his eyes cold. "What do you want?"
Her voice was low and hoarse. It wasn't unpleasant to hear, but her tone was extremely cold. Anyone who heard it would feel a sense of dread.
Torras scratched his head in confusion. "You don't know me?"
Mandela's heart trembled. Could it be that this person was someone famous in this city?
Torras noticed the change in Mandehila's expression and had an answer in his heart. "Are you a newbie?"
Torras was very confident that he was known by everyone in Origin City, and his reputation was brilliant. Those who didn't recognize him were either blind or newbies. Since there were no blind people in First Heart City, there was only one possibility — a newcomer.
"What does that have to do with you?" Mandehila coldly snorted and took a few steps back to a safe distance. She had just arrived and had yet to figure out the situation here. It was not very wise to rashly start a conflict with the "local tyrant". Moreover, she was no longer the undead queen who could summon wind and rain in the Black Forest. She was just an ordinary person. If she really fought, she would be the one at a disadvantage.
Torras didn't think too much about it. After determining that this was a newbie, he was much more lenient towards Mandehila's resistance. "You are indeed a newbie. I'm Torras, the sheriff of First Heart City. Since I've run into you, I can't just leave you be."
Newbie, First Heart City, Sheriff Torras … Mandehila tried to grasp the keywords, but they were all unfamiliar to her.
Where on earth did she appear?
Mandela frowned and took a few more steps back, cautiously asking, "Where is Origin City, and why am I here?"
"Huh? You don't seem to know anything. Did the person who guided you here not tell you anything? " Torras was a little confused. Freud would more or less give some information to other newbies when they entered the city. But this woman seemed to know nothing.
What was going on? Was Freud slacking off?
Torras's eyes lit up. If Freud was slacking off, did that mean he had caught Freud's weakness? Did that mean … he wouldn't be held accountable for destroying the walls and ground?
"It's fine if you don't know. Come with me, I'll take you to the registration counter."
Torras walked up to Mandehila and tried to pull her back.
But Mandehila was faster than him. She had been on guard all this time and immediately turned to run when she saw Torras moving.
Mandela's reaction speed was fast, but she was just a normal human. Her movement speed was much slower than Torras'. She barely took a few steps before Torras caught her wrist.
"Let go of me!" Mandela glared coldly at Torras, his heart filled with hatred. Why was this body so weak?
Torras ignored her and dragged her out of the alley. "Stay where you are. If you run into that Sabelle bastard who calls himself the captain of the city defense, you're done for."
Torras kept muttering bad things about Sabelle as he dragged Mandehila away.
Mandehila's face turned red from anger. She tried to shake Torras off and even attacked him, but she still couldn't break free.
"Don't worry, I'm a sheriff. I won't do anything to you," Torras explained, perhaps because Manderhaera was struggling too hard.
Mandehila wouldn't trust anyone until she knew where she was and whether she was in danger.
Mandehila sneered at Torras. "Back then, a self-proclaimed princess sold me to a human trafficker. You're just a sheriff. Who knows what kind of shady business you're involved in? "
Mandehila immediately regretted her words. She didn't know why she suddenly said something like that.
As expected, was it because her heart was too weak? Damn you! Why did you turn me back into a soul?!
Hearing Manderhair's mocking words, Torras paused and stared at Manderhair.
After a long while, when Mandela was starting to feel uncomfortable, Torras said with pity, "As expected, all the nobles of the royal family are trash. Don't worry. You won't run into anything like that again in Foundation City. "
"Aren't you a noble yourself?" Mandehila retorted.
Torras nodded with a serious look. "Of course not. I'm just here for fun."
"I don't want Angor to lock me up in the Church of the Deceased every day," Torras muttered.
Mandehila was a little surprised. Did Torras just mention Angor's name? What did he just say?
Mandehila was a little frustrated. She was too focused on escaping to pay attention to Torras' words. What did he say to Angor?
Mandehila hesitated. Should she just ask Torras?
But before she could ask, she was dragged out of the alley by Torras. Mandehila felt like she was being stared at by countless people. Her curiosity was quickly replaced by discomfort.
Manderhaera began to struggle again, growling with a guttural voice, "Let me go!"
Torras didn't care about other people's gazes. He continued walking on the street while still holding Mandehila's wrist tightly.
After taking a few steps, Torras seemed to have noticed something and started running.
Mandela was still in his grasp, and in order not to fall to the ground, Mandela had no choice but to run with Torras. Mandehila couldn't help but curse Torras as she ran.
But Torras didn't seem to hear her at all. He only focused on chasing after his target.
Torras only stopped when Manderhaera felt dizzy and disoriented.
Mandela was panting heavily as he raised his head, only to see a tall man standing in front of Torras. This man looked very handsome and masculine. He was wearing soft armor and had a long sword at his waist. He looked very majestic.
The newcomer didn't seem to have any expression on his face, but Mandehila could tell from his eyes that he had something urgent to do.
"What's up, Torras?"
"I heard you're preparing for your second match, so I'm here to help you with your training." Torras put his arm around the other man's shoulder and complained, "Why did you only go to Sabelle? You would've come to me in the past."
"Every time I come, you're nowhere to be found. You only go to Saber. I'll talk to you later. I need to talk to Freud." With that, Angor walked around Torras and headed toward the tower not far away.
Torras hurriedly chased after him, and Manderhaera finally managed to catch his breath before he was dragged away again.
"I need to talk to Freud too." Torras followed Angor. "You look like you're in a hurry. What do you need from Freud?"
"Nothing. I just want to ask about Angor." Leon sighed. "Nothing. I just want to ask about Angor."
"What about him?" Torras was confused.
Leon shook his head. "I heard a rumor, and I want to confirm it with Freud."
Torras wanted to ask more questions, but Leon stopped him. Instead, he looked at Mandehila who was being dragged away. "Who's she?"
Torras turned back to look at Mandehila. At some point, Mandehila had stopped struggling and was silently following Torras. However, if one looked closely, one would notice that Mandehila's ears were twitching slightly.
"A newbie who doesn't know about this place yet. I'm taking her to register, and I'm going to talk to Freud about it!" Torras said proudly.
Leon didn't believe him. "I heard that you destroyed the statue in the Memorial Square yesterday. Freud should be thanking you for it."
"I … I wasn't being careful." Torras' tone softened. "Who told you that? Don't tell me it's that bastard Saber who likes to gossip behind people's backs?"
Leon shook his head. "Knight Saber never gossips."
Torras frowned. "You're saying I'm gossiping?"
Leon shook his head again. He didn't want to talk about it. "Speaking of which, I heard a rumor just now. I heard a loud noise near the Ocean Theater, and the wall was broken. Don't tell me —"
Torras cleared his throat. "It has nothing to do with me."
Leon looked at Torras' expression and realized something.
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