A group of more than ten burly men exuded thick murderous intent. When they heard Dominic proclaim himself to be the second in the army, they exchanged a few glances among each other.
One of them, who wielded a blade, took a step forward.
Seeing the confidence in Dominic's expression, the man shook his head. "Your dad is a Brigadier in the military, and your grandpa holds an even higher position, Dominic. But just a heads-up, this isn't a military sparring match."
Upon hearing that, Dominic furrowed his brows. The last thing he wanted was people bringing up his father and grandfather. He had worked hard to get to where he was today.
However, many folks were convinced that Dominic rode on his father's and grandfather's coattails, dismissing his skill and the effort he'd put in.
Dominic was caught off guard when he saw who it was. "It was you!"
That burly man was Lester Hudson. Dominic was once his opponent in the military tournament.
Lester wielded a blade in his right hand, his eyes brimming with killing intent. "Yes. It's me."
The most distinctive feature of Lester's blade was the deep and large fullers. In truth, calling it a blade wasn't accurate. It closely resembled a triple-edged dagger, with a similar design to bayonets.
Typically bayonets had no fullers, but Lester's weapon had three. It was typically used post-battle to finish off the surviving enemies and take out the prisoner of war. It was a tool for carnage.
Lester held his blade tightly. The air surrounding him was filled with menace.
Dominic scoffed. "I know you come from the rural areas in the mountain with no connections, but there's no need to throw shade at me like that, Lester.
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